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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
















































































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BY THE SAME AUTHOR 
THE CRUISE OF THE CORMORANT 

Illustrated by photographs. $1.35 net. 

Two American boys undertake, with 
their uncle, to deliver his yacht to its 
new owner in the Barbadoes. The story 
includes yachting, hunting, fishing 
travel, adventure, and treasure seeking 
— six things dear to the hearts of boys. 

IN MORGAN’S WAKE 

Illustrated by photographs and line sketches. 
$1.35 net. 

Another cruise of the “Cormorant.” 
The two boys seek and find a wreck con- 
taining treasure. Their adventures take 
them to Cuba and South America. 

UNCLE ABNER’S LEGACY 

Illustrated by photographs. $1.35 net. 

How a city boy and girl made good on 
a farm. 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 



















. 










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For a short distance the train ran close to the shore (Page 1G5). 




IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


BY 

A. HYATT VERRILL 

Author of The Cruise of the Cormorant, Uncle Ahner y s Legacy , 
An American Crusoe, etc. 


ILLUSTRATED 



NEW YORK 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

1915 



Copyright, 1915, 

BY 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 


Published August , 1915 



SEP 20 1915 


©C1.A4 10533 
' l » 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I. An Unexpected Arrival 





page 

1 

II. 

Southward Ho! 





11 

III. 

The Pearl of the Antilles 





26 

IY. 

Plans and Stories 





45 

V. 

The Pirates’ Island . 





57 

VI. 

The Most Historic Spot in America 




85 

VII. 

The Tip End of a Continent 





108 

VIII. 

Pearls and Pirates 





130 

IX. 

A Strange Way of Hunting 





145 

X. 

In Old New Spain 





165 

XI. 

Among the Lake Dwellers . . 





183 

XII. 

Harry ’s Adventure 





204 

XIII. 

In the Land of Bolivar 





219 

XIV. 

A Remarkable Combat . 





235 

XV. 

The Treasure House of Spain . 





249 

XVI. 

Rami Goes Fishing 





263 

XVII. 

The Captain Springs a Surprise 





288 






LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


For a short distance the train ran close to the shore 


Frontispiece v 
FACING PAGE 


Map of the cruise 

A string of bunting soared aloft 

The warship boat was soon alongside .... 
The waterspout rushed past the “Guanica” 

The boys saw the wonderful viaduct .... 
Between old Morro and La Punta fort .... 
The Ancient Morro with its lofty lighthouse 

It looked like a picture of Venice 

The ornate club buildings about the plaza 
Parts of the town looked like bits of old Spain 

The Prado with its central parklets 

The strange bridge across a street 

The Loma del Angel scarce ten feet in width . 

A wide street bordered by immense buildings . 

11 That’s the oldest thing in Havana; the Fuerza it’s called’ ’ 

Morro ’s batteries of ancient cannon 

Cabanas, where prisoners were formerly shot 

A tiny donkey dozing between the shafts of a rude cart . 

The Central Station with its twin towers 

“That’s the prettiest town we’ve seen” .... 

A small boy astride a large bull 

Harry’s copy of the pirates’ map 

The Homenaje, the oldest fort in America 

Half-ruined San Francisco convent 

They passed through the gateway in the city wall . 

The massive Cathedral where Columbus sleeps . 

It was the tomb of Columbus 


r 

18^ 
18 S 
22 ^ 
24 ^ 
26^ 
28 ;^ 
28 ^ 
30 ^ 
30 

32^ 
34^ 
34 ^ 
36 ^ 
36 V 
40 \ 
40- 
44"' 
44^ 
66 ^ 
66 
77 
94 
94 
98 
98 
100 


vu 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


viii 


Suburban residences gleamed amid the verdure 

. 

PACING 

PAGE 

112 

Wooded islets separated by narrow channels 

. 

. 

112 

The magnificent Government House and grounds 

. 

. 

116 r 

They strolled through the public gardens . 

. 

. 

116 * 

Beautiful rivers with verdured banks . 

. 

. 

126v' 

From the car windows they watched the scenery through which 
they passed 

126‘ 

134* 

“How high are those mountains '? ' ’ asked Harry 

. 

. 

The little town nestling at the foot of the mountains 

. 

134 

Caracas lay spread before them .... 

. 

. 

168' 

“I think those avenues are fine, " said Harry 

. 

. 

168 

Surrounded by mountains, the town lay bathed in 

sunshine 

170 1 

The ancient forts on the islands in the harbor . 

. 

. . 

178 

The modern customs house at Puerto Cabello . 

. 

. 

178i 

Everything is thoroughly Dutch in Curasao 

. 

. . 

186 

Most of the Indians are pretty well civilized . 

. 

. 

190 « 

Harry exclaimed, “There's a house on stilts" 

. 

. 

198' 

The boys saw the fisherman standing in the water 

. 

. 

198 * 

The massive walls and emblazoned doorways of the 

buildings . 

224 * 

Negresses squatted beside piles of vegetables . 

. 

. 

224 

Indians with poles covered with Panama hats . 


. 

230 

Drivers of pack trains stopped to chat . 


. 

230 

Grasped one of the shark's fins 


. 

246 

The cove where Sam lived 


. . 

250 

Creaking ox carts passed along the streets 


. 

250 

Many of the streets were wide and well kept . 


. 

258 

Automobiles seemed incongruous and out of place 


. 

258 ■ 

He saw the wreck close at hand 


, , 

276 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


\f 




MAP OF THE CRUISE IN MORGAN^ WAKE 


IN MORGAN S WAKE 


CHAPTER I 

AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 

“I wonder if Captain Perkins has forgotten all 
about that cruise after treasure ?” remarked Paul 
Rogers, as he and his cousin, Harry Thurston, were 
talking over their cruise in the “Cormorant” in the 
Rogers’ library. 

“I don’t believe so,” replied Harry. “Captain 
Perkins didn ’t seem like the sort of man who ’d sug- 
gest that trip if he didn’t mean it. Still,” he con- 
tinued, “it is funny we haven’t heard anything from 
him for such a long time. ’ ’ 

“Not a word since October,” said Paul. “Even 
then he didn’t say anything about the trip.” As he 
spoke he walked to the window and looked out at 
the slushy streets and the pelting rain that froze as 
it fell, and glazed the sidewalks with a coating of 
ice. “Just to think of palm trees and green moun- 
tains, and warm, bright sunshine makes me wild to 
be down in the tropics such weather as this,” he 
continued. “I do wish we’d get a letter asking us 
l 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


2 

to go. Wouldn’t it be bully to get away from here 
until pleasant spring weather V 9 

“It would be fine,” agreed Harry. “But I sup- 
pose we’re mighty lucky to have been there last 
winter. Lots of boys have never seen a palm tree 
or any of those queer tropical places.” 

“Nor found dead pirates and maps of treasure,” 
laughed Paul. “Do you know it all seems like a 
dream to me sometimes — until I look at the copy of 
the map, or see Rami waiting on the table.” 

“Well, if we’re going this winter it’s about time 
we heard from the captain,” Harry declared. 
“Here it’s nearly the first of the year, and we’ll 
never have a better chance to get away. I heard 
Uncle Charles tell Mr. Anderson that business was 
dull. Aunt Kitty’s going on from Denver to the 
opening of the Exposition, and we’ve nothing to 
keep us here since the school closed on account of 
that diphtheria scare.” 

“Only one thing wanting,” said Paul. “That’s 
the invitation from the captain. We can’t very well 
go without that, you know.” 

“Perhaps he’s gone to the Exposition,” sug- 
gested Harry. “He might take it into his head to 
sail there in the ‘Cormorant.’ ” 

“No use in supposing,” declared Paul, “for all 
we know he may be sailing up here to surprise us. 
He loves to surprise people, and I don’t suppose a 


AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 


3 


trip from Barbados to New York in winter would 
trouble an old sailor like him.” 

“I’d be mighty glad to see him — here, or any- 
where else,” said Harry. “And the ‘ Cormorant ’s’ 
cabin was comfortable enough for anyone. Whew! 
Do you remember how cold it was when we left last 
year ? ’ ’ 

“Do I?” exclaimed Paul. “It makes me shiver 
even now when I think of standing out on deck that 
first day.” 

At this instant the boys heard the doorbell ring, 
and a moment after Rami glided, like a ghost, past 
the library door on his way to answer the sum- 
mons. 

“Hello, Gunga Din!” exclaimed a hearty voice, 
as Rami opened the door. “Know me, ye old ras- 
cal? Bet ye do. How’s the boys? Lord, but it’s 
nasty out.” 

The boys sprang to their feet and rushed pellmell 
into the hall for, by the words and the peal of 
laughter which followed, the boys knew that the 
visitor was none other than Captain Perkins. 

“Well, well, well!” cried the ruddy-faced captain, 
as he caught sight of the two boys. “Thought I’d 
surprise ye ag^in, but guess I missed stays this time. 
Ye don’t seem a mite surprised. Who tipped ye off 
that I was heading for this port? Lor’ bless your 
hearts, I’m glad to see ye.” 


4 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“But we are surprised, Captain Perkins,” de- 
clared Paul. “We didn’t dream that you were with- 
in a thousand miles of here.” 

“And the funniest part of it is we were just talk- 
ing about you,” said Harry, and added, “Paul even 
suggested that perhaps you were sailing up to sur- 
prise us.” 

“ ‘Speak of angels,’ you know,” laughed the cap- 
tain, as Rami helped him off with his rain-soaked 
great coat. “Well, I’m here, lads, safe, sound and 
with all standing, so to speak. How’s Mr. Rogers? 
Bet I’ll surprise him.” 

“Father hasn’t come in yet,” replied Paul. “We 
expect him any minute. My! but won’t he be sur- 
prised.” 

“Do tell us about your trip,” cried Harry, as the 
three entered the library and Captain Perkins 
rubbed his hands before the fire. ‘ ‘ How long did it 
take, and was it very rough?” 

“And how’s the old ‘Cormorant’?” interrupted 
Paul. “When did you get in, and where’s the boat? 
I’d just love to see her again.” 

“Ease off a bit, lads,” cried the jolly little cap- 
tain; “one thing at a time, and I’ll try to hold my 
course and read ye my log shipshape and Bristol- 
fashion, as the saying goes. 

‘ ‘ Made the trip from Morro light to quarantine in 
four days, sixteen hours and twenty-three minutes 


AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 


5 


eggzactlj . Pretty heavy weather, too — nor’easter 
off Hatteras and thick as blazes off the Jersey coast. 
Never started a stick, stay or rivet. Boat’s a-layin’ 
over to Clarke stores, and the old ‘Cormorant’s’ 
just the same bully little ship as ever.” 

4 4 Four days and sixteen hours!” cried Paul in- 
credulously. 4 4 Why, that’s as fast as steam. It 
must have blown a perfect hurricane for the 4 Cor- 
morant’ to make such time as that.” 

Captain Perkins roared with laughter until his 
face grew scarlet. 4 4 Course she couldn’t make such 
time,” he cried. 4 4 Who said anything about sailing 
up in the yacht? No winter sailing in these lati- 
tudes for Cap’n Frank. No, sirree, not when ocean- 
going steamers are a-running.” 

4 4 Then you didn’t come up on the ‘Cormorant’ 
after all?” exclaimed Paul. 

4 4 Nope; came up on the ‘Guanica’; Sanders, mas- 
ter, and ” 

The sound of a key in the front door interrupted 
him. 

4 4 There comes Uncle Charles,” cried Harry. 

A moment later Mr. Rogers entered the library 
and Captain Perkins sprang forward and grasped 
his hand. 4 4 Well, I surprised you, at any rate,” he 
chuckled, as he noted Mr. Rogers’ look of blank 
amazement at seeing him. 

4 4 Bet ye didn’t expect to find Cap’n Frank a-set- 


6 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


tin’ in yer own house, Rogers. Well, well! I am 
glad to see ye.” 

4 ‘ It’s certainly a most welcome surprise,” de- 
clared Mr. Rogers, as he wrung the captain’s hand. 
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you so well 
and hearty. When and how did you arrive? You 
surely didn’t come in the ‘Cormorant.’ ” 

“Just been a-telling the boys,” replied the cap- 
tain. ‘ ‘ Came in this P. M. in the ‘ Guanica. ’ ’Spect 
I might as well spin the 
whole yarn. Was over to 
Havana on a visit when I 
run afoul of old Bill San- 
ders — used to be my second on the ‘Ruby’ — master 
of the ‘Guanica.’ Well, the long an’ short of it was 
that Sanders says, ‘ Cap ’n Frank, why don ’t ye take 
a cruise along o’ me to New York and back?’ and I 
said to myself, ‘ Cap ’n Frank, here ’s yer chance ; go 
along with Bill Sanders, and bring back Rogers and 
the boys and go along on that treasure hunting trip 
ye promised. It’s a mortal shame to have them 
youngsters a-freezing up north, when they might 
just as well be a-sailing the old Spanish Main. ’ So 
here I be, and you’re all a-coming along with me 
when the ‘Guanica’ sails, and we’ll spend the rest 
o’ the winter following old Harry Morgan’s wake.” 

Rami now announced that dinner was served and 
the party entered the dining-room. 



AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 


7 


* ‘ See ye Ve got the old Hindu chap with ye still, ’ ’ 
remarked Captain Perkins, as Rami left the room. 
“ Bring him along, too. He’ll enjoy getting away 
from cold weather, I’ll be bound, and ’twill be a 
Godsend to have him a-cooking grub on the 
‘Guanica.’ ” 

‘ 4 What line does the ‘Guanica’ belong to?” asked 
Mr. Rogers. “The name isn’t familiar to me.” 

Captain Perkins laughed heartily. “O’ course 
not,” he declared. “She’s just an old tramp, but a 
mighty comfortable old hooker, with a clean pair of 
heels an’ as fine engines as ye’d wish to see.” 

“But I didn’t know they carried passengers on 
tramps,” said Paul. 

‘ ‘ True as a trivet, ’ ’ cried the captain. ‘ ‘ An ’ we ’re 
not a-goin’ as passengers. Guests of the owners, 
ye see, an’ friends o’ Captain Sanders.” 

“I’m afraid we’ll be presuming too much on the 
owners’ hospitality,” said Mr. Rogers. “Isn’t it 
rather unusual for four strangers to take possession 
of a ship without an invitation?” 

Captain Perkins leaned back in his chair and 
roared. “You bet ’tis,” he declared. “But ye 
needn’t worry over that. Owners sent their invite 
along with me. Ye see, the ‘Guanica’ belongs to a 
company doing business under the style and name 
o’ Frank J. Perkins, Esquire, as the British lawyer 
chaps say.” 


8 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“You mean that you own the ‘Guanica’?” cried 
Harry. 

“That’s the idea, son,” chuckled the captain. 
“Bought her last fall for a song, just after the war 
broke out. Used to be a German ship and the British 
seized her at Bridgetown. Bought her in at auction, 
put her under the Stars and Stripes, and turned her 
over to Sanders. Sugar trade’s been picking up 
while them ‘dear cousins’ of Kings and Kaisers are 
scrapping, and Sanders has free rein to take the 
old tub wherever he thinks cargoes are best. Hadn ’t 
seen the ship since I bought her ’til I run acrost 
her in Havana.” 

“Hurrah!” cried Paul. “Then we’ll sail on a 
ship that’s really been seized in the war, and on a 
tramp, too. I’ve often wondered how it seemed to 
travel on one of them.” 

“I judge you left the ‘Cormorant’ at Havana,” 
remarked Mr. Rogers. 

“Snug as ye please, berthed at Machina wharf,” 
replied the captain. “Tom’s still a-sailoring with 
me, and I left him in charge. By the way, what’s 
become of that darkey chap — Pete, I think ye called 
him?” 

“He’s doing finely,” said Mr. Rogers. “He’s 
very smart and has gone rapidly ahead in school. 
He’s now at Tuskegee, and is taking a course in 
tropical agriculture.” 


AN UNEXPECTED ARRIVAL 


9 


The meal was now over and again in the library 
the conversation turned to the last winter’s cruise 
and West Indian reminiscences. 

“Did you ever hear anything more from that Por- 
tuguese sailor who ran off with the launch ?” Mr. 
Rogers inquired. 

“Lor’ bless me! I forgot all about telling ye. 
Yes, sirree, that scalawag was taken off that little 
key by a trading boat bound from Grenada to Mar- 
tinique. Dunno what became of him after that. Bad 
pennies always turn up, ye know. Shouldn’t be 
surprised if he crosses our bows again yet.” 

“Stranger things have happened,” said Mr. Rog- 
ers musingly. “Coincidences often occur in real 
life which would appear impossible in fiction.” 

“I’ll love to see Cuba,” remarked Paul. “We’ve 
been reading about it and it must be a mighty inter- 
esting place.” 

“And so different from the other islands we vis- 
ited,” added Harry. “We’ve never seen a Spanish 
place, and I suppose Cuba is thoroughly Spanish.” 

“Not so much as ’twas,” said Captain Perkins. 
“Since the Spanish war Cuba’s got to be pretty 
much American in lots of ways. Ye’ll see plenty to 
interest ye though, I’ll wager.” 

“Were there ever any pirates or buccaneers 
there?” asked Paul. 

“Lor’ bless your heart, yes,” cried the captain. 


10 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Old Morgan and Drake and all the rest of the 
crowd used to hold up Cuba pretty near by schedule, 
ye might say; but the worst pirates they ever had 
was the Spanish officials who used to govern the 
place. They made more money than old Morgan, 
and they didn’t hide it away where other chaps can 
find it either. ’ ’ 

“Do you think we’ll find any treasure?” asked 
Harry. 

“Likely as not,” replied the captain. “I’ve been 
a-poking around a bit since I saw you boys last, and 
I’ve overhauled a few yarns that sound likely, and 
I’ve got to wind’ard o’ the whereabouts of some 
facts we ’ll investigate. Nothing like being prepared, 
and I’m a-going to take a proper diving outfit along 
o’ this cruise. Makes me feel a reg’lar kid again to 
think o’ hunting after buried treasure.” 

The boys were eager to hear all the latest news 
from the West Indies, and plied Captain Perkins 
with one inquiry after another regarding the many 
places they had visited and the many friends they 
had made on their cruise of the preceding winter. 

There was so much to talk about that it was very 
late when the boys finally bade Captain Frank good- 
night and went to bed to dream of plate-laden gal- 
leons, pirate ships and waving palms. 


CHAPTER II 


SOUTHWARD HO 

For the next few days the boys were very busy. 
The “Guanica” would be ready to sail in a week, 
Captain Perkins said, and there was much to be done 
in preparation for the long trip that Captain Frank 
planned. 

The boys accompanied the jolly little captain 
everywhere, and showed him all the sights of the 
great city, which he had not visited in many years. 

On the other hand, he led them into many odd 
places and strange corners which the boys had never 
seen, and it is a question whether the captain 
learned and saw more by the boys’ help than they 
discovered by the captain’s aid. 

The tarry-smelling stores and shops along the 
water-front; the strange restaurants and eating- 
places, where seamen from every part of the world 
came to dine; the stuffy, smoke-filled shipping of- 
fices; the great, clean, airy sail-lofts, and countless 
other places which are familiar to those “who go 
down to the sea in ships” were all new and strange 
to the boys. 


11 


12 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Everyone seemed to know Cap’n Frank, for he’d 
been a famous skipper of deep-water craft in his 
day, and sailor-men have long memories. Whenever 
he met an old crony a few minutes were spent in 
swapping yarns or reminiscences of old times, and 
the boys found the keenest enjoyment in listening to 
these stories of the sea. 

Several trips were also made to Brooklyn, where 
the “Guanica” was berthed at Clark’s Stores, while 
lighters and scows, stevedores and trucks, worked 
ceaselessly at unloading the thousands of bags of 
brown sugar from the big tramp’s capacious hold. 

‘ ‘ What do ye think o’ her for a yacht?” cried 
Captain Perkins, when the boys approached the ship 
for the first time. 

“My, but she’s big!” exclaimed Paul. 

“She looks as if she’d stand most any kind of 
weather,” said Harry. “The old ‘Cormorant’ 
wouldn’t seem much larger than a rowboat beside 
her. ’ ’ 

“Pretty nigh ten thousand tons,” declared the 
captain. “Ye think she looks big now. Wait till 
she’s light, and ye’ll think she’s twice as big. Come 
on aboard, lads, and meet the skipper and look at 
your berths.” 

The boys had never boarded a freighter before, 
and looked about with interest as they gained the 
“Guanica’s” decks. White paint, gleaming brass 


SOUTHWARD HO 


13 


and holystoned decks were lacking, and from stem to 
stern there stretched bare, steel decks, broken by 
great yawning hatches, greasy donkey engines and 
an isolated bridge above the engine-room super- 
structure. 

“Why, I don’t see any cabins,” exclaimed Harry, 
as he glanced about at the vast area of deck. 

Captain Frank chuckled. “Aft there,” he cried, 
pointing to a tiny house at the stern, and, turning 
to a passing sailor, he inquired if the captain was 
aboard. They found Captain Sanders in the chart- 
room, poring over a mass of manifests, bills of lad- 
ing, invoices and other papers, and half hidden in 
a dense haze of smoke from a huge cigar at which 
he was puffing. He rose as they entered, and greeted 
the boys cordially when Captain Perkins introduced 
them. The boys could scarcely repress a smile at 
the contrast afforded by the “Guanica’s” skipper 
and jolly Captain Frank, for Captain Sanders 
stood six feet four, was thin, angular, and tanned a 
mahogany brown, and spoke slowly and deliberately 
in a voice scarcely louder than a whisper. Captain 
Perkins, on the other hand, was short and stout, 
with ruddy face and a voice and laugh which could 
be heard the length of the ship. 

“Regular long and short of it, eh, lads?” he 
roared. “Bet that’s what ye were thinking of,” he 
added, and burst into hearty laughter. 


14 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Sanders joined in the merriment and remarked: 
* ‘ Queer how some folks get all the latitude and oth- 
ers nothin’ but longitude, so to speak. Mind the 
time, Frank, when folks used to chaff us and holler 
out, ‘Look at the tug a-towin’ o’ the torps’l yard,’ 
when we passed up the street together?” 

The boys took a great liking to Captain Sanders 
as he showed them over the ship and, while there 
was not much to be seen, they were greatly inter- 
ested, as everything was so different from the pas- 
senger ships to which they were accustomed. The 
cabins they found were neat and clean, with com- 
fortable berths, a snug little saloon, and, being far 
aft, they were free from the sickening, sweetish odor 
of molasses that pervaded the rest of the vessel. 

“I don’t see how they’ll manage to get all that 
sugar out and the new cargo loaded in a week, ’ ’ said 
Paul, as the three left the “Guanica.” “There 
seems such a lot to do and such a short time to do 
it in.” 

“Don’t ye fret about that, son,” cried Captain 
Frank. “Bill Sanders is a driver, slow as he seems; 
regular proper sort of sailor-man, and if he says 
‘sail Saturday,’ Saturday ’tis.” 

By Friday night everything was ready, stores of 
provisions, spare sails, cordage, and even a complete 
diving outfit were aboard the ship and the luggage 
was stowed in the cabin. 


SOUTHWARD HO 


15 


Shortly before noon on Saturday the last hawser 
was cast loose, fussy tugs dragged the “Guanica” 
from her berth into the river, and Mr. Rogers, the 
two boys and Captain Perkins waved good-bye to the 
few friends who had come to see them off, while 
Rami took possession of the galley and busied him- 
self with the midday meal. 

Presently the great hull vibrated to the throb of 
the engines, the powerful screw churned the dirty 
harbor waters, a hoarse 
farewell roar from the 
whistle was answered by 
the tooting of the tugs, 
and the ‘ 1 Guanica ’ 9 headed 
toward the narrows and 
the open sea. 

It was a bright, sunny winter’s day, but the air 
was sharp and chill, and long before they reached 
Fort Wadsworth the boys were glad to seek the 
shelter of the wheelhouse. 

Presently their attention was attracted by a gray- 
hulled torpedo boat, which passed the “Guanica” 
under full speed and with a mountainous bow wave 
that rose far above her forward rails. 

“Where is she going in such a hurry?” asked 
Paul of Captain Sanders, who stood near. 

“Headin’ to overhaul that ship yonder,” replied 
the skipper, pointing to a big steamer a mile or two 



I 6 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


distant. “One o’ the government’s patrol,” he 
added, “stationed here to keep tabs on the shippin’ 
and prevent any o ’ the interned German ships from 
slippin’ out.” 

“They didn’t say anything to us,” remarked 
Harry. “How do they know we’re not German?” 

Captain Sanders laughed. “Trust ’em for that,” 
he replied. “There ain’t sech a big fleet o’ ships 
flyin’ the Stars and Stripes that any green mid- 
shipman can’t keep track o’ ’em. ’Tain’t the same 
way with them Britishers outside, though. Like as 
not they’ll hold us up to make sure we ain’t a Ger- 
man tryin’ to sneak out under cover o’ Old 
Glory.” 

“Do you really think we will be stopped?” cried 
Paul. “Wouldn’t that be exciting?” 

“Well, they stopped me last trip out,” replied 
Sanders. “If the same cruiser’s hangin’ round they 
may recognize us and say nothin’; but, if it’s an- 
other ship that’s on duty, I expect they’ll board us. 
Ye see the ‘Guanica’s’ built and sparred so that 
Hamburg’s written all over her, an’ them British- 
ers don’t take many chances. Better safe than 
sorry’s their motto, an’ they don’t have nothin’ to 
amuse ’em except to board ships. ’ ’ 

The pilot-station boat was now close ahead, and 
presently the big tramp slowed down. The engines 
ceased to throb and a yawl boat came dancing over 


SOUTHWARD HO 


17 


the waves. A moment later the pilot shook hands 
all around, scrambled down the ladder, jumped into 
his tiny craft and waved a cheery good-bye as the 
“Guanica” once more gathered headway and 
pointed her how toward the south. 

“Oh, look, Uncle Charles; there’s a warship,” 
cried Harry a few minutes after the pilot had been 
dropped. “See, off beyond the lightship,” he con- 
tinued. “I can see her quite plainly with the 
glasses.” 

The others looked in the direction Harry indi- 
cated and soon made out the vessel whose lines and 
military masts proclaimed her a fighting ship be- 
yond doubt. 

“She’s a Britisher, all right,” declared Captain 
Perkins, after a glance. “Looks like the ‘Berwick’ 
— leastways one o’ the same class.” 

“I do believe she’s heading for us,” exclaimed 
Paul. “There’s smoke pouring from her funnels 
and she’s turned this way.” 

“Right ye are, lad,” said Captain Frank, as he 
watched the distant cruiser through his glasses. 
“Maybe she’s just a-watchin’ us, and then again 
she may stop us for a bit. She’s coming along at a 
mighty good clip, so ’twon’t be long before we 
know. ’ ’ 

The lean gray cruiser was rapidly lessening the 
distance which separated her from the “Guanica,” 


18 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


and she could now be plainly seen without the 
glasses. 

“There go her signals!” cried Harry. “I won- 
der what they say?” As he spoke a string of 
bunting soared aloft at the cruiser’s foremast. 

“ ‘What ship is that? Heave to,’ ” replied Cap- 
tain Perkins. 

“Well, there’s not much excitement in being held 
up as easy as all that,” said Paul in a disappointed 
tone. “I thought they’d fire a shot across our 
bows.” 

Captain Perkins burst into a hearty laugh. ‘ ‘ Lor ’ 
bless your heart!” he cried. “So ye want to have 
excitement already, eh? Well, well! This ’ere’s a 
cruise after pirates’ treasure, and we might as well 
have everything we can to make it real exciting. 
Don’t pay any heed to them flags, Bill,” he con- 
tinued, addressing Captain Sanders. “Just shove 
the old packet ahead for all she’s worth, and give 
those chaps a run for their money. Good thing to 
give ’em a bit of exercise now and again and more 
fun for the boys.” 

Captain Sanders smiled, gave an order to a man 
who was preparing to send up the code flags, and 
rang for full speed. 

For a few minutes the English officers seemed 
puzzled, and merely kept their distance, apparently 
waiting for their signals to be obeyed. Then, as it 




A string of bunting soared 


aloft. 


> » ' * . 


The warship boat was soon alongside 








































































♦ 

















SOUTHWARD HO 


19 


dawned upon them that the tramp was paying no 
attention to their orders, and was actually drawing 
away from them, the cruiser dashed forward with 
redoubled speed, and through their glasses the boys 
could see hurrying bluejackets swarming to their 
stations. 

“Bet she thinks we’re German for sure,” chuckled 
Captain Perkins. 

“Look at that, lads,” he cried as a white puff of 
smoke burst from one of the cruiser’s forward bar- 
bettes. 

“Did she fire at us?” exclaimed Harry. “I 
didn’t see any splash in the water.” 

“Just a blank cartridge to warn us,” laughed the 
captain. “Next one will be solid shot.” 

The dull boom of the first shot now reached those 
on the “Guanica” and almost at the same instant 
another puff of smoke issued from the cruiser’s 
guns and with a tremendous splash the shot tore the 
sea into a great fountain of foam a short distance 
ahead of the tramp. 

“Reckon that’s about close enough,” laughed 
Captain Frank, and at a signal from the bridge the 
engine stopped and the “Guanica” slowly lost 
headway and came to a standstill. 

Harry and Paul watched the cruiser with interest 
as a boat was quickly lowered from her davits. 

Manned by armed sailors and with an officer very 


20 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


erect and stiff in its stern, tlie little craft came 
bobbing toward tbe tramp while hundreds of men 
crowded upon the forward deck of the warship and 
gazed interestedly at the strange ship which had 
so brazenly defied them. 

Very soon the boat was alongside, the ladder was 
lowered and followed by a couple of bluejackets the 
lieutenant clambered onto the ‘ ‘ Guanica ’s ’ ’ deck. 

Harry poked Paul in the ribs and chuckled as he 
caught sight of the officer at close range, for his boy- 
ish face, pink cheeks and monocle contrasted ludi- 
crously with his dignity and vast importance which 
the lieutenant evidently desired to impress upon 
those aboard the “ Guanica. ’ ’ 

Captain Perkins fairly choked with suppressed 
laughter, but Captain Sanders never even smiled 
as he greeted the officer and handed him the ship’s 
papers. 

‘ ‘ They appear quite correct,” remarked the offi- 
cer after carefully looking over the papers. “But 
really, you know,” he added, “your actions are 
deucedly suspicious. You jolly well knew what our 
signals meant, sir. Do you realize that you openly 
defied a ship of His Majesty’s navy, sir? You take 
great risks, Captain Sanders; why, we — er — er — 
might have actually sunk you, sir. ’ ’ 

“Sink nothin’,” remarked Captain Sanders con- 
temptuously. “I’m an American citizen and 


SOUTHWARD HO 


21 


a-sailin , an American ship to a neutral port. You 
fellers are durned nuisances anyhow. Go along 
hack to yer old ship an’ don’t hold us up here all 
day. ’ 9 

At this juncture Captain Frank appeared, his 
merriment under control. 

4 4 Well, well, Lieutenant!” he cried. “Just 
thought I’d give you lads a little excitement and 
exercise. Tell your captain to accept these with my 
compliments and take these for yourself.” He 
handed the lieutenant several boxes of Havana ci- 
gars. 

The officer at once forgot his haughty demeanor, 
chatted pleasantly for a few moments and bidding 
everyone good luck and good-bye he climbed into 
his boat and boarded his cruiser while the “Gua- 
nica” again resumed her interrupted voyage. 

The next two days were uneventful and the boys 
spent their time discussing their coming cruise, 
studying maps and charts and listening to the sea 
stories told by Captain Sanders. They found him 
most entertaining, for he had sailed the seven seas 
since a small boy and had met with innumerable 
adventures. 

“What a funny looking cloud that is,” said 
Harry as he stood on the bridge one morning. 

“I’ve been a-studyin’ it,” remarked Captain 
Sanders. “Looks to me as if ’twas a-tryin’ to form 


22 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


a waterspout. Better watch it close an’ maybe ye’ll 
see somethin’ int ’restin’.” 

“I’d like mighty well to see a waterspout,” de- 
clared Paul. “Do they ever cause any damage to 
ships ? ’ ’ 

“Not often,” replied the skipper. “They don’t 
move very fast and a steamer can mos’ generally 
get out o’ their track. In the old sailin’ days we 
sometimes got struck, hut savin’ a few torn sails 
and a heap o’ water on board they didn’t do much 
harm.” 

“Oh, look, look!” cried Harry. “See how that 
cloud is dipping down and whirling round. ’ ’ 

“She’s a formin’ all right,” exclaimed Captain 
Sanders. “There, she starts; see the water a 
b’ilin’ up.” 

From the scurrying clouds a funnel-shaped mass 
was slowly descending toward the sea and from the 
water below a little mountain of churning, foaming 
water was rising up. Even as the captain spoke the 
cloud seemed to swoop down, the mound of water 
spun into the air and like a flash the two were joined 
by a slender column of whirling, revolving water. 

“Isn’t that wonderful!” cried Harry, while Paul 
dived into the chart house and reappeared with his 
camera. 

The waterspout was now rapidly approaching the 
ship and Captain Sanders ordered the quartermas- 



The waterspout rushed past the “Guanica. M 



























































• « .* a 









































































SOUTHWARD HO 


23 


ter to alter his course slightly. A minute later the 
spout rushed past the “Guanica” with a roar and 
Paul snapped it as it raced along. 

A few hundred yards beyond the ship the spout 
broke and with a tremendous noise the water, which 
had been drawn into the clouds, poured back to the 
sea in a mighty deluge. 

“Well, Pm glad we saw that,” said Harry. 

“And Pm glad I left my camera handy,” said 
Paul. “I do hope I got a good picture.” 

The weather was now warm and balmy and the 
boys frequently noticed the floating gulf weed, Por- 
tuguese men-of-war and flying fishes with which 
they had become familiar on their former trip. 

When he came on deck the fourth day out Harry 
cried out in surprise as he caught sight of a low- 
lying shore of white sand, fringed with shrubs and 
palm trees. 

“Is that Cuba?” he enquired of Captain Sanders. 

“No; Florida,” replied the skipper. “We’ll pass 
Palm Beach in a few hours.” 

“Why, I didn’t realize we would run so close to 
shore,” said Paul. “When we came down in the 
‘ Cormorant’ we never sighted land until we saw 
Porto Rico.” 

“Your course took you about a thousand miles fur- 
ther east,” replied the captain. “Havana’s a good 
deal to the west’ard o’ Florida and we stand close 


24 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


in to save time and keep out of the strongest part 
of the Gulf Stream. Goin’ north we stand further 
to the east’ard and get the benefit of the current.’ ’ 

All day long the “Guanica” skirted the low 
Florida coast and the boys studied the barren, 
sandy wastes, the low palmettos and the occasional 
hotels and houses through their glasses. Now and 
then they passed a tiny launch or fishing boat and 


several tank steamers 
and small coasters were 
met. 



“Doesn’t it make it 
companionable and nice 
to sail so close to shore 


and see so many other boats,” remarked Paul. 
“It’s almost like sailing along a river or a lake.” 

As they approached the Keys the captain called 
the boys’ attention to several wrecks lying rusted 
and deserted upon little reefs. 

“It’s a dangerous spot to navigate in thick 
weather,” he remarked. “The water’s shoal an’ 
full o’ reefs an’ even in rough weather a ship’s 
pretty likely to run aground betwixt waves.” 

The boys were also interested in the numerous 
lighthouses, several of which stood high out of water 
on slender iron legs far from land. Gradually the 
shore grew more distant and openings of water 
appeared here and there. 




t 


The boys saw the wonderful viaduct. 























































































































































































■ 

•« 









































SOUTHWARD HO 


25 

“ What on earth makes that smoke ?” asked Harry, 
after looking intently shoreward with his glasses for 
a long time. 4 ‘It seems to come from that hit of 
land and the land seems to really move along. I 
can’t make it out.” 

Captain Perkins, who stood near, laughed merrily. 
“That’s a railroad train,” he exclaimed. “Ever 
hear of the railway that runs to Key West?” 

“Why, of course we have,” replied Harry, “but 
I didn’t realize it could he seen from here.” 

“That’s the trestle ’twixt a couple of the little 
Keys,” explained the captain. “Later on ye’ll get 
a glimpse of the long bridge across to Key West. 
Then ye’ll see nothin’ more ’til old Morro shows 
up.” 

Early in the afternoon the boys saw the wonderful 
viaduct which connects the smaller keys with Key 
West and were fortunate to catch a glimpse of a 
train crossing over it and sharply silhouetted 
against the glowing evening sky. By the time sup- 
per was over a twinkling light far astern was all 
that marked the land they had left and through 
the soft blackness of the tropic night the “Gua- 
nica” plowed steadily onward towards Cuba. 


CHAPTER III 


THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 

The boys were awakened by tbe stopping of tbe 
ship’s engines. So accustomed bad they become to 
the steady throb and jar of the machinery during 
the past five days that the silence seemed almost 
oppressive. 

“ I wonder what the matter is?” said Harry. 

‘ 4 My, but isn’t it still!” 

Suddenly, clear and distinct through the open 
port, came the sound of a cock crowing. Harry 
sprang from his berth, ran to the port-hole and 
looked out. 

“Oh, Paul!” he cried, “we’re right close to land 
and day’s just breaking. Hurry up and get dressed. 
We’ve really reached Cuba.” 

Paul needed no second call and after a quick 
glance through the port he hurried into his clothes 
and a few moments later both boys were on deck. 

The “Guanica” was resting motionless upon the 
dark sea and a short distance before her land loomed 
dark against the sky which was just paling with the 
coming dawn. From the shore faint sounds of 
26 





Between old Mono and La Punta fort. 





THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 


rt 


awakening life could be heard ; the crowing of cocks, 
the occasional bark of a dog, the sound of a church 
bell and the thin, distant whistle of a locomotive. 
Stretching from the water’s edge to the shadowy 
hills was a great sea of twinkling lights and dimly 
outlined by their glare were countless buildings. 

4 ‘Goodness, that looks like a big city,” exclaimed 
Paul, as the boys stood gazing towards the shore. 

“So ’tis,” said Captain Sanders’ voice behind 
them. “You’re up bright an’ early I see, boys,” he 
continued. “Run up on the bridge an’ you’ll soon 
see as pretty a sight as the world can show — Ha- 
vana by sunrise.” 

Gradually the eastern sky grew rosy and golden 
and like a dissolving view Cuba and its lovely capi- 
tal city was unfolded to the boys’ gaze. 

To the left the ancient Morro, with its lofty light- 
house, frowned from its rocky promontory and to 
the right — beyond a narrow strait of water — the 
town stretched for miles along the shore and far 
back to soft green hills. The flat-roofed, multi- 
colored houses glowed in the rosy morning light, 
here and there taller modern buildings stood boldly 
forth against the sky and from countless hearths 
tiny columns of smoke rose in the still, soft air. 

Presently the sun rose clear above the rim of the 
sea, the lone-starred flag of Cuba fluttered from the 
flagstaff on Morro and a bell jangled in the “Gua- 


28 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


nica’s” engine-room. Slowly the big tramp moved 
towards the harbor entrance, passed between the 
guns of old Morro and the low-lying ancient 
“Punta” fort and entered the great inner bay. 

To Paul and Harry, who had seen only the smaller 
Antilles, Havana’s harbor was a revelation and 
they constantly uttered exclamations of surprise. 
The huge stone and concrete docks, and great ware- 
houses, the city spreading for miles, the forest of 
masts and funnels and the nu- 
merous great ocean steamers 
lying at the docks and moored 
to buoys in the harbor were all 
wonderful to the boys. They 
had read much about Cuba and 
Havana, but no description had 
prepared them for the beauty of the actual scene 
and nothing they had read had given them an 
adequate idea of the extent or bustle of Cuba’s 
capital. 

Everywhere upon the bay launches, tugs and fer- 
ryboats plowed back and forth. Beneath the 
heights of old Cabanas several huge liners were busy 
coaling. A white-hulled United Fruit steamer 
slipped by, outward bound, as the “Guanica” 
picked her way to a mooring and from the docks and 
streets came the ceaseless, busy hum of a metropolis. 
Everything was so strange, so foreign and so fasci- 




The Ancient Morro with its lofty lighthouse. 



It looked like a picture of Venice. 

































































THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 


29 


nating that the boys could scarcely ask questions 
fast enough. 

The beautiful domed Produce Exchange attracted 
their attention and Harry made the apt remark that 
‘ ‘ it looked like a picture of Venice. ’ ’ They inquired 
about the towering stacks of the immense power- 
house, they admired the toy-like villages that dotted 
the hills across the bay and they hurried here, there 
and everywhere about the ship striving to see every- 
thing as the “Guanica” steamed up the harbor. 

As Machina Wharf came into view Harry uttered 
a glad shout and seized PauPs arm. “ There she is,” 
he cried. “ Don’t you see her, Paul? There, just 
back of that yachty-looking steamer. I’d know her 
anywheres. Hurrah for the 1 Cormorant ’ ! ” 

‘ 1 Now I see her,” exclaimed Paul. “Isn’t it bully 
to see her again. I wonder if they see us?” 

Both boys waved their hats wildly and in response 
a white-clad figure rose from the “Cormorant’s” 
deck, waved a cap to the boys and a moment later 
the little flag at the yacht’s mizzen dipped thrice 
in welcome. 

“That’s Tom, I’ll bet,” declared Harry. “My! 
but it makes me feel almost homesick to see the old 
‘ Cormorant’ again.” 

Captain Perkins, who stood near, chuckled. 
“Ye’ve got a sharp pair o’ eyes, lad, to sight her so 
quick,” he exclaimed. “Lor’ bless ye, it does seem 


30 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


like meeting an old friend to see the yacht again.” 

The “Guanica” now stopped, she was made fast 
to a big iron buoy and the hoys waited impatiently 
for the quarantine and customs boats to come along- 
side. The formalities were soon over and Captain 
Perkins bundled Mr. Rogers and the hoys into a 
waiting launch. 

“ We ’ll run over to Machina Wharf,” he re- 
marked, “have a look at the 1 Cormorant’ and then 
off for a shore breakfast and a ride about town. 
Early morning’s the time to see Havana, lads.” 

“Blow me fer a bloomin’ Dutchman, if I ain’t 
glad ter see ye,” declared Tom as the hoys sprang 
onto the yacht and danced and capered about. 
“ ’Ow’s the bloomin’ Hindu chap what chopped 
away the sail in that there squall? Cornin’ erlong 
o’ ye this cruise, hey? Well, I’ll be blowed!” 

Everything was satisfactory aboard the yawl and 
with orders to Tom to get the luggage and stores 
transferred from the “Guanica,” Captain Perkins 
hailed a waiting “coche,” or cab, and the party 
rattled off over the cobbled docks towards the cen- 
ter of the town. 

Strange and foreign-looking as Havana had ap- 
peared from the ship, the boys found it even more 
novel and picturesque as they drove through the 
streets. The narrow thoroughfares, bordered with 
ancient buildings, decorated with Moorish tiles, the 




The ornate club buildings about the plaza. Parts of the town looked like bits of old Spain. 








































THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 


31 


glimpses of flower-filled patios, the iron-grilled win- 
dows and the brilliant colors of stuccoed walls, all 
added to the Oriental effect, and the boys could 
scarcely believe they were still in America. 

Presently they entered the Calle 0 ’Reilly, with its 
numerous stores and shops, its odd, brightly-painted 
canopies stretched from side to side overhead and 
its ceaseless close-packed stream of traffic. 

Then they emerged upon a small square with a 
beautiful marble statue in the center, trotted 
through a wide street, bordered by immense build- 
ings, each occupying an entire square, and drew 
up at one side of the great central plaza known as 
“Parque Central.’ ’ 

The boys scarcely knew which to admire the most, 
the flaming poinciana trees, graceful palms and 
splendid statues of the park or the ornate, beautiful 
club buildings and palatial hotels which surrounded 
it. In the cool shade of a colonnade, bordering the 
sidewalk, they ate breakfast in an open-air res- 
taurant while watching the passing crowds and in- 
numerable automobiles and carriages. 

“Now for a sight-seeing trip,” exclaimed Cap- 
tain Perkins when the breakfast of delicious native 
dishes was over. “Pile into the coche, lads. No 
use a-walking when ye can drive, is my motto. 
Cabs are the cheapest things in this town. Ten 
cents for the first and five cents for the other pas- 


32 IN MORGAN’S WAKE 

sengers. I reckon at that rate anyone can afford to 
ride . 9 ’ 

Down through the wide Prado, with its central 
parklets, they drove to the Malecon and the blue 
strip of sea stretching between the Punta fort and 
gray Morro on the further shore. Thence to the 
wonderful botanic gardens ; out to the Colon ceme- 
tery and the monument to the 
victims of the 1 1 Maine” disas- 
ter, and then back to Colon 
Park and the Prado again. 

At every turn the boys found 
something to admire and inter- 
est. The strange Belen bridge 
across a street, the hoary old 
cathedral, the remnants of the once great city wall, 
the beautiful churches, the Plaza de Armas and the 
palace were all visited in turn, and at each Captain 
Perkins gave the boys a short account of its his- 
torical interest, for he had at one time lived in 
Havana and knew every nook and corner of the 
Cuban capital. 

The boys were highly amused when they caught 
sight of a tiny donkey dozing between the shafts 
of a rude cart bearing a huge barrel, which Captain 
Perkins told them was a Cuban watering cart. 

‘ 4 Relic of old times,” he added. “Automobile 
'street sprinklers are the only kind that suit the 




The Prado with its central parklets 




























































































































































































































* 






















THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 


33 


Cubans nowadays; and as for fire engines, New 
York hasn’t anything on Havana.” 

“The cleanliness of the town impresses me the 
most, ’ ’ Mr. Rogers remarked. ‘ ‘ I had no idea that 
so large a city in the tropics could be so spotless.” 

“One of the cleanest cities in the world,” de- 
clared Captain Perkins, 1 1 and the second healthiest. 
Porto Rico’s the only place that beats it for 
that.” 

“Why, our geographies said Cuba and Porto 
Rico were unhealthy and that yellow fever was com- 
mon,” exclaimed Paul. 

“So they were — before the Yankees cleaned them 
up,” the captain explained. “The reputation they 
got in the old days dies hard.” 

Mr. Rogers and the boys were delighted at the 
quaint, picturesque vistas which their guide pointed 
out in the older parts of the city, and Mr. Rogers 
declared that the “Loma del Angel,” a street 
scarcely ten feet in width, the prickly spire of the 
Church of the Angels above it and the aged, mel- 
lowed buildings of the neighborhood might well 
be bits transported bodily from old Spain or Mo- 
rocco. 

Before noon the heat became rather oppressive, 
and although the boys were loath to abandon their 
sightseeing, they followed Captain Perkins’ advice 
and boarded the “Guanica.” In the afternoon the 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


34* 

party went across the bay and, landing under Ca- 
banas heights, made a tour of the ancient fortress 
and Morro Castle. 

As they toiled up the steep slope the captain ex- 
plained that while Cabanas was built as a fortress, 
it had never been attacked and had always served 
as a prison, especially during the numerous revolu- 
tions, when countless Cuban patriots had been tor- 
tured and executed within its walls. Near the en- 
trance he turned to the right and showed the boys 
the famous “ Laurel Ditch,” where the prisoners 
were formerly shot, and the boys plainly saw the 
line of bullet marks which stretched for nearly one 
hundred feet along the wall, a grim memento of 
Spanish rule known as the “Dead Line.” 

From the water Cabanas had not impressed the 
boys as very large, but once within its walls they 
were amazed at its stupendous size. 

“It’s a mile long and 1,000 feet wide,” Captain 
Perkins assured them. “It cost the old dons a 
pretty penny, something over fourteen million dol- 
lars, they say ; took eleven years to build it . 9 9 

The boys could easily believe this as they wan- 
dered through the innumerable dungeons, secret 
chambers and underground passages and along the 
broad ramparts with their antique cannon still in 
place. 

From Cabanas a short walk to the north led the 






The strange bridge across a street. T1 >e Loma del Angel scarce ten feet in width 










THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 


35 


party to Morro, which they found far more interest- 
ing than Cabanas. 

“Doesn’t it look old!” exclaimed Harry as the 
boys crossed the ancient drawbridge across the great 
moat surrounding the castle on the land side. 

“It’s like stepping back to the middle ages,” 
agreed Mr. Rogers. 

“It’s old, all right,” said Captain Perkins. 
“Built in 1597 and copied after an old Moorish fort 
at Lisbon, I believe; but ’tain’t half as old looking 
as the Santiago Morro or the Morro at San Juan.” 

“Why, I didn’t know there were so many Mor- 
ros,” said Paul. “Why are they all named that?” 

“ ‘Morro’ in Spanish means a castle on a height, 
’specially one built in Moorish fashion, and there’s 
Morros in pretty near every Spanish country,” re- 
plied the captain. 

The prison cells directly above the water, the 
stone chute, through which bodies of prisoners were 
formerly slid into the sea to become the food of 
waiting sharks, and the batteries of cannon were all 
fascinating to the two boys. 

“You said Cuba had been attacked by pirates,” 
remarked Paul as they stood by one of the im- 
mensely thick ramparts gazing across the narrow 
strait towards Havana. “I shouldn’t think any 
ship could ever get into the harbor between these 
forts.” 


36 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“ Bless your heart,’ ’ laughed the captain, “ pi- 
rates weren’t such fools as to try that game. No, 
sir-r-e-e; they left Havana alone after Morro was 
built and paid their compliments to other cities. 
Morro has never been attacked but once — ’til we 
Yankees came along. That was back in 1762, when 
the Britishers captured it and turned the guns on 
the town ; but they couldn’t hold it more than a year, 
and it cost ’em a heap more in money and lives 
than ’twas worth.” 

“See that little fort across the bay, ’longside the 
docks?” he continued. “That’s the oldest thing 
in Havana. The Fuerza, or ‘fort,’ it’s called. Be- 
gun in 1528 and finished in 1538 by old De Soto just 
before he started off to Florida. That old pile of 
rock’s seen many a pirate. It’s the place where 
all the plate and bullion used to be stowed 
away, waiting for ships to Spain. But nary a 
buccaneer ever took it, though they tried often 
enough. ’ ’ 

The party returned to the town late in the after- 
noon, dined at the Miramar, at the foot of the 
Prado, and spent the evening driving and strolling 
about the parks and Malecon. 

The “Guanica” had unloaded her cargo for Ha- 
vana by the time the boys reached her that night 
and as Captain Sanders was to leave for Cienfuegos 
early the next morning, they bade him good-bye and 



A wide street bordered by immense buildings. 























































THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 


37 


boarded the ‘ ‘ Cormorant, ’ ’ which was now moored 
in mid-harbor for the sake of the cool breeze. 

It seemed very homelike once more to take np 
their old quarters on the yacht, but the next morn- 
ing, when the boys looked for the “Guanica” and 
found her gone they felt a bit as if they’d parted 
from an old friend. Captain Perkins had some 
business to attend to at Matanzas and invited Mr. 
Rogers and the boys to accompany him on the trip. 

“It’ll give ye a glimpse of the country,” he said, 
“and ye’ll find plenty to interest ye ’twixt the caves 
and all.” 

“What a magnificent station!” exclaimed Harry 
as the party drew up before the big Central Station, 
with its lofty twin towers. 

“One of the Yankee improvements,” remarked 
the captain. “Wait till ye get inside, lads.” 

The splendidly equipped station, with its restau- 
rants, glass-roofed platforms, tiled walls and nu- 
merous tracks filled with waiting trains of Pullman 
cars and coaches, was a revelation to the boys, who 
had never dreamed that such a thoroughly modern 
terminal could be found in the West Indies. But 
all this interested them far less than a tiny, quaint 
locomotive, which stood within a railing near one 
end of the platform. An inscribed plate furnished 
the information that this was the first locomotive 
used in Cuba, and one of the first to be operated in 


38 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


America, for the United Railways of Havana were 
opened in 1837, while many of the cities in the 
United States were still dependent upon the stage 
coach and post chaise. 

“That’s the best illustration of progress I’ve 
seen for a long time,” remarked Mr. Rogers as the 
party passed through the gates to board the wait- 
ing train. “Just to compare that diminutive * a- 
chine with these big Mogul engines is an object les- 
son worth while.” 

As the train rumbled through the extensive 
freight yards and along mile after mile of docks 
packed with shipping and teeming with industry, 
the boys were more and more impressed with the 
size and business of Havana. 

Captain Perkins found an old friend aboard the 
train, a Cuban gentleman, whom he introduced to 
Mr. Rogers and the boys. When he found that the 
boys were interested in the history of the island, the 
pirates and days of adventure, he related many 
stories of Cuba’s past, which the boys found most 
fascinating and instructive. 

“Cuba, and especially Havana, was the object 
of attacks by pirates from the earliest days,” he 
said in reply to a question from Paul. “In fact,” 
he continued, “the early history of the island is 
practically nothing but a record of pillage by 
freebooters from England, France and Holland. 


THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 


39 


Although the ‘Fuerza’ and ‘Punta’ were com- 
menced in 1528, yet the fortifications were not com- 
pleted for nearly a century, and meanwhile the city 
was totally destroyed by the French in 1538 and 
again in 1554. Sir Francis Drake attacked Havana 
in 1585 and 1592, and the Dutch buccaneers arrived 
in 1628. It was not until the completion of the city 
walls in 1665 that the city was able to resist 
the piratical forays. It’s a pity you are not going 
to visit Santiago. The Morro is worth seeing and 
historically the town is very interesting. ’ 1 

“Was Santiago ever sacked by pirates V 9 asked 
Harry. 

“As often as Havana / ’ replied Senor Martinez. 
“Until 1608 Santiago was the Cuban capital, and 
vast quantities of treasure were kept there. In 
1553 French buccaneers captured the town, held it 
for a month and only withdrew when the inhabi- 
tants paid a ransom of $80,000.” 

“Do you think there is any buried treasure in 
Cuba?” asked Paul. 

“It’s hardly probable,” replied the Cuban with 
a smile. “That is, pirates’ treasure,” he added. 
“No doubt the inhabitants often buried or secreted 
their valuables when attacked by freebooters or 
during times of war and doubtless many who lost 
their lives carried the secret of the hiding places 
with them to the grave. Even during the last strug- 


40 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


gle for freedom much treasure was thus hidden and 
from time to time such hoards are recovered. If I 
wished to search for treasure in Cuba I should look 

in the neighbor- 
hood of Sancti 
Spiritus or Ca- 
maguey, in the 
interior. They 
suffered more 
from pirates than 
the coast towns.” 

“Isn’t that 
strange?” re- 
marked Harry . i 1 1 
never knew pirates attacked inland cities.” 

“They attacked anything they could reach,” re- 
plied their friend. 4 1 Even the hardships of an over- 
land trip to Panama did not deter them, and it was 
comparatively easy for them to reach the interior 
towns of Cuba. Sancti Spiritus was pillaged in 1667 ■ 
and again in 1719, and Camaguey was looted in 1668. 1 
On that occasion the pirates shut all the people in 
the churches, where they tortured them daily and 
starved them in order to compel them to divulge 
the hiding places of their riches. Finally, having 
secured everything of value, they butchered most 
of the inhabitants, left the others to die of starva- 
tion locked in their church prisons and departed 




Cabanas where prisoners were formerly shot. 



Morro ’s batteries of ancient cannon, 










. 




















































































THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 


41 


for the coast with hundreds of cattle and many 
prisoners. These captives were compelled to kill 
and dress the cattle, and were then put to the 
sword. You may sometimes hear Camaguey 
mentioned as Puerto Principe, which means 
‘ Prince’s Port/ and seems an odd name for an in- 
land town. Originally the town was situated on 
the coast and was moved inland to avoid the attacks 
of pirates ; hut the change proved of no avail against 
the attack by Morgan, of which I have just told 
you. ’ ’ 

“Why, Morgan seems to have been every- 
where/ ’ exclaimed Paul. “You know we’re going 
to follow ‘in his wake/ as Captain Perkins puts 
it.” 

“If you follow his wake you’ll have to visit nearly 
every spot around the Spanish Main,” laughingly 
remarked Senor Martinez. “But he left a broad 
and bloody trail, and you’ll have no difficulty in 
following it. Well, ‘adios/ boys. I change here.” 

Gathering his luggage and bidding everyone good- 
bye, he hurried from the train as it stopped at the 
little station of Aguacate, with the huge Rosario 
Sugar Mill close at hand. 

The scenery through which they had been pass- 
ing was not at all interesting, and consisted mainly 
of mile after mile of waving sugar cane ; but beyond 
Aguacate the country became hilly and attractive, 


42 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


and the boys’ attention was given up entirely to 
watching the ever-changing scenes through which 
they passed. 

Presently the train roared through a deep cut- 
ting, with dense tropical growths on every side, and 
emerged upon a broad fertile plain covered with 
orange orchards. 

“See that big peak over yonder?” said Captain 
Perkins, pointing to a. solitary mountain ahead. 
“That’s the ‘Pan de Matanzas,’ as it’s called, and 
right under it’s the town.” 

“I’ll have to leave ye to yourselves for a spell,” 
remarked the captain when they stepped from the 
train at Matanzas. “If ye wait ’til I’m through 
you won’t have time to see the sights, and there’s 
heaps to see. I’ll get a ‘cochero,’ who speaks 
United States, and he’ll take you around and have 
ye back in time for the train this afternoon.” 

Matanzas itself Mr. Rogers and the boys found 
very interesting. They drove through the portion 
known as “Versailles,” with its beautiful marble 
houses, traveled out the Paseo to Fort San Severino 
and were amused at their guide’s description of the 
‘ ‘ immortal mule, ’ ’ which was the only thing killed by 
Sampson’s guns in 1898, and then, crossing the Yu- 
muri over the Concordia bridge, entered the “Old 
Town.” From here they crossed the San Juan 
river over Belen Bridge, admired the palatial pri- 


THE PEARL OF THE ANTILLES 


43 


vate residences of the wealthy Matanzans and after 
lunch headed for the Yumuri Valley. 

“I don’t wonder they call it the ‘Vale of Para- 
dise,’ ” remarked Mr. Rogers, as from a hilltop 
they looked upon the deep basin-like valley inclosed 
in verdure-clad hills and with the silvery stream 
winding through its center. 

“It’s certainly beautiful,” agreed Paul. 

“And such quantities of royal palms,” 
added Harry. ‘ ‘ I thought we saw lots of 
palms last winter, but there are more in 
this one valley than we saw in all those 
other islands.” 

They next visited the wonderful Bella- 
mar Caves, wandered through their elec- 
tric lighted interior and drove back to town just in 
time for the return train. 

“You could stop in Havana a week and not see 
half the sights,” remarked Captain Perkins as the 
launch carried them towards the yacht in the cool 
of the evening. “And as for Cuba,” he continued, 
“ye’d need months to see it all. Heaps of folks 
think they can see Cuba in a couple of days, but, 
Lor’, it’s nigh a thousand miles long and some- 
thing different every mile.” 

“I’d like to see it all,” remarked Paul. “But I 
suppose we won’t have time to stop any longer.” 

“We’ve many other places to go yet,” replied 



44 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


the captain. “ Ye ’ll find plenty o’ more interesting 
spots, ’specially as we ’re a-looking for treasure, not 
sight-seeing. I reckon we’d better be leaving to- 
morrow morning,” he added; “everything’s all 
ready and ye ’ve seen most of the sights. ’ ’ 

“Just as you say,” said Mr. Rogers. 

“Hurrah for the cruise!” cried the boys in 


unison. 



A tiny donkey dozing between the shafts of a rude cart. 



The Central Station with its twin towers. 






































































































. * 





























CHAPTER IV 


PLANS AND STORIES 

“ Where do we go next?” asked Paul, as they 
dined on the afterdeck of the “Cormorant” that 
evening. 

“I reckon it HI be Puerto Plata, over in San Do- 
mingo,” replied the captain. “I’d calculated to 
cruise about Haiti and rummage over Tortuga and 
Gonaive a bit afore sailing for San Domingo. Tor- 
tuga used to be the great stamping ground of the 
pirates, and I reckon there ’s treasure there a-plenty 
— if we could find the right spot. It’s a good lump 
of an island, though, ’bout twenty miles long and 
wooded. ’ ’ 

“Why can’t we go there, then?” asked Harry. 

“Just now there’s a bit of a mixup a-going on in 
Haiti,” replied the captain, “and ’tain’t particular 
healthy for white folks to go a-nosing about in the 
black republic when there’s a revolution being 
held.” 

“Do you think they would actually attack us?” 
asked Paul. 

Captain Perkins laughed. “Lor’ bless your 
45 


46 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


heart,” he cried. “I don’t expect they’d actually 
shoot us or shove us into prison ; but laws are pretty 
lax in Haiti when it comes to foreigners, and when 
they get scrappin’ and no one’s a-top of the heap 
they’re not likely to respect property rights. If 
they took it into their woolly heads to think we were 
filibusters and grabbed the ‘Cormorant,’ we’d be 
in a pretty fix.” 

“It’s a pity, anyway,” remarked Paul. “But tell 
us more about Tortuga, Captain Frank.” 

“I can’t tell ye a great lot,” the captain replied, 
“excepting that the buccaneers held the place for 
pretty near fifty years and laughed at the King of 
Spain and all his ships when they tried to drive ’em 
out. They had gardens and villages, raised cattle 
and dried beef ; for that matter they got the name 
of buccaneers from that same jerked beef what’s 
called ‘bucan’ by the Spaniards. After a while pi- 
rating got too risky and some of the chaps gave up 
the sea and settled down to an honest life. Others 
made enough to live decent on and migrated to 
other parts. Still others got killed or captured. 
Plenty of the descendants of the old pirates still 
live on Tortuga and at Port de Paix, across the 
strait, but they’re all as black outside as they used 
to be inside.” 

“Did Morgan ever live there?” asked Paul. 

“I dunno about tbht,” the captain answered. 


PLANS AND STORIES 


47 


“He used to stop there and ’twas a regular spot 
for him to careen his ships and load water and 
grub. I shouldn’t be a mite surprised if he cached 
a bit of treasure there himself.” 

“Sehor Martinez said we’d have to visit every 
spot on the Spanish Main if we followed his wake,” 
remarked Harry. 

“Right he was,” chuckled the captain. “Old 
Harry Morgan didn’t let the grass grow under his 
feet. But there’s no use a-trying to follow every- 
wheres he went. For example, there’s Jamaica. 
Old Morgan lived there and was governor of the 
island at one time, but he didn’t rob ships around 
those parts. No, sir; when he wasn’t holding up 
Cuba or Panama he was knocking about San Do- 
mingo or La Guayra or maybe Porto Bello and 
’twixt times a-putting into little harbors and keys 
and a-hiding his loot.” 

“You spoke of going to Puerto Plata,” said Mr. 
Rogers. “Was that one of the towns sacked by 
Morgan?” 

“Not to my knowing,” replied the captain. 
< i There ’s a yarn about a treasure ship sunk oft the 
harbor, and I thought ’twas worth looking after.” 
He winked at Mr. Rogers. 

“I thought they were having a revolution in San 
Domingo,” remarked Harry. “Won’t it be just as 
risky to go there?” 


48 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


The captain laughed heartily. “Lor’ no, lad,” 
he cried. “Don’t make the mistake of mixing Hai- 
tiens and Dominicans. There isn’t any resemblance 
between ’em, ’cepting both crowds are altogether too 
fond o’ revoluting.” 

‘ ‘ Why, I thought it was all one island, ’ ’ exclaimed 
Paul. “And that the people were all black.” 

“Bless ye, no,” declared the captain. “Haiti’s a 
black republic, all right, providing ye admit it’s a 
republic at all, but the Dominicans are mostly 
white, or least ways a bit ‘tar-brushed,’ as the say- 
ing is. Ye’re right about it being all one island, 
lad ; but it ’s a whopping big bit of land, and the two 
republics that occupy it don’t have anything in com- 
mon. The Haitiens don’t have any use for whites, 
and they’re a-going backwards all the time, whereas 
the Dominicans welcome foreigners with open arms 
almost, and the place is a-getting on towards civili- 
zation pretty fast. If it wasn’t for the shenanigans 
they’re always a-kicking up it’d be the most pros- 
perous island in the whole bunch — it’s the richest 
place in the Indies, naturally.” 

“Where do you plan to go from Puerto Plata 1” 
asked Mr. Rogers. 

“That depends a bit on what turns up,” said 
Captain Frank. “You see,” he added, “I’ve got a 
lot of yarns about treasure stowed away in my head, 
and I’ve got hold of an old map with crosses marked 


PLANS AND STORIES 


49 


on it where ships were sunk. Of course a lot of 
these are in deep water, but some of ’em may still 
be a-holding together where it’s shallow, and it’ll 
be some fun to look ’em up, even if we don’t 
get any treasure. That’s why I brought the diving 
outfit along. I’ve been down more’n once myself, 
and I reckon I can go again, and Tom tells me he 
used to dive some and can go down if I want; so 
that’s all easy sailing. We’re not pinned down to a 
regular route — ’twouldn’t be like a treasure-hunt- 
ing cruise if we were. I reckon we’ll just follow 
along here and yon where old Morgan went, and 
knock about from one spot to another, according 
to how things turn out. How’ll that suit ye?” He 
clapped the boys heartily on their backs. 

“I think that will be fine,” declared Paul. 

“It will be lots more fun than knowing where 
we’re going beforehand,” agreed Harry. 

“I’d love to go down in a diving suit,” remarked 
Paul after a moment’s silence. ‘ ‘ It must be wonder- 
ful to walk about at the bottom of the sea. ’ ’ 

“Maybe I’ll let ye, if I find a likely spot in shal- 
low water,” chuckled the captain. “Fact is, I kind 
of expected to let both of ye go down when I bought 
the suit. It’ll be interesting and won’t hurt ye a 
mite.” 

“That will be bully,” cried Harry. “I sha’n’t 
care whether we find treasure or not. Nothing 


50 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


could be more interesting than to go to an old wreck 
in a diving suit.” 

Captain Frank laughed. “I’m a-going to show 
ye something that hi interest ye more than that,” 
he declared. 

“Do tell us what it is,” begged Paul. 

“No, sir-r-e-e. It’s a surprise, unless ye guess it 
afore the time comes.” 

“Well, we’ll have to let it go at that, I suppose,” 
said Harry “But won’t you show us the map you 
spoke of?” 

‘ ‘ And tell us some of the yarns about treasure ? ’ ’ 
added Paul. 

“Of course I will,” cried the merry little man. 
“Come into the cabin, lads, and I’ll get out the map 
and then I’ll spin some of the yarns I’ve in mind.” 

In the cabin the captain brought out the map and 
spread it on the table. It proved to be a rough 
chart of the northern coast of South America, 
crudely made, but giving a fairly accurate outline of 
the shores and islands near the coast, and with 
crosses here and there. 

“Each of these crosses is a wreck,” explained 
the captain. “Those in red ink had treasure 
aboard. The first one I’m a-going to hunt up is 
this.” He placed his finger on a red cross just off 
the northeast coast of Margarita Island. 

“Here’s another,” he continued. He pointed to 


PLANS AND STORIES 


51 


a mark on the southern side of Oruba Island. 
“Here’s a couple close together, ’longside of these 
islands in the Maracaibo Gulf,” he said, “and 
here’s still another among these reefs ’twixt Bar- 
ranquilla and Cartagena. The last one of the lot’s 
clear down here in the Gulf of Uraba.” 



“Why, if we visit all those we’ll have to sail all 
along the South American coast,” exclaimed Harry. 
“Won’t that be grand? I didn’t know we were go- 
ing so far.” 

“Oh, we may run across so much treasure we’ll 
have to cut for home after locating the first wreck,” 
laughed the captain. 

“Where on earth did you get this map?” asked 
Paul. 

“Been accumulating evidence, as a lawyer chap’d 
say, ever since I can recollect, and I’ve always had 
a hankering after going on a treasure hunt. I 
copied the most of the chart from an old map I 


52 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


found when poking about down in Colon one time. 
’Twas just after the big fire, and papers and odds 
and ends was blowing about the streets, and I picked 
up a map that was half burnt, and just out of curi- 
osity I copied her off. A lot of the wrecks were 
marked on it, and every time I’ve beard of another 
I’ve marked it down. Sailormen hear a heap about 
such things, and ’twixt native pilots, sailors’ yarns 
and books I’ve beard a lot about wrecks and treasure 
and all. Of course some of it isn’t true — like as not 
half these ’ere wrecks never were there; but I’ve 
always been a-collecting such trash, just like other 
folks collect stamps or picture post cards.” 

‘ 4 How do you expect to find the wrecks ! ’ ’ inquired 
Mr. Rogers. ‘ ‘ The chart is not sufficiently accurate 
to serve as a guide, I imagine.” 

“No, sir,” said the captain as be rolled up the 
chart, “I expect to find ’em by looking about. 
Water’s so clear you can see bottom at six or seven 
fathoms in most spots, and I reckon a wreck’ll show 
up pretty plain if we get close to it.” 

“Did you ever really know of anyone finding a 
wreck with treasure f ’ ’ asked Paul. 

‘ ‘ Lor ’, yes, ’ ’ answered the captain. 1 1 Come along 
on deck and I’ll tell ye a few yarns that are true as 
gospel. It’s too all fired hot down below here.” 

Far into the night the boys sat spellbound listen- 
ing to Captain Perkins’ yarns, many of which be 


PLANS AND STORIES 


53 


related from memory, while others he read from 
clippings, notes and entries in old log-books. 

He told them of a friend who had commanded an 
expedition to the Bahamas on a search for wrecks. 
How the wreck had been found, the old cannon, 
bronze fittings and thousands of dollars’ worth of 
bullion had been recovered and safely loaded on 
their own ship. How a sudden storm had wrecked 
the vessel and another wreck had been repaired 
and raised, rigged with the fittings of their own 
schooner and the treasure-trove had again been 
salvaged and placed in the hold of the reconstructed 
vessel. Finally, how, after days and weeks, the 
treasure-hunters had worked the old hull north to 
Cape Cod and when almost in sight of Boston and 
home the ancient timbers and bolts had given way 
to the strain and treasure and all had gone to the 
bottom, while the crew barely escaped with their 
lives. 

“Wasn’t that a dreadful shame,” exclaimed 
Harry. “After all that work to be wrecked so 
near home. Didn’t they ever recover any- 
thing?” 

“Just a few old guns,” replied the captain. 

He then told another tale of a skipper who, hav- 
ing been wrecked on a West Indian islet, returned 
with the tale of a wrecked galleon which he had 
discovered while diving for shellfish. The castaway 


54 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


gathered together a crew of his friends, secured a 
schooner and sailed away, to return months later, 
with a load of old copper and bronze which amply 
repaid him for the time and money spent. 

‘ 4 He kept his mouth shut, ’ ’ said Captain Perkins, 
“and not a man- Jack ever told a word about what 
they found or where the wreck was — but they found 
more than old brass, I’ll wager. Every one of ’em’s 
been a-living like bank presidents ever since.” 

“Do you really think they found treasure?” asked 
Paul. “How could they get it in without being 
seen?” 

“I reckon it this way,” said the captain. “I’ve 
always suspected they found bullion or maybe jew- 
els. Then, like as not, they headed for some port 
in Mexico or South America, unloaded their treas- 
ure here and there and sailed home with the pro- 
ceeds in good coin or drafts.” 

“Then there was another skipper,” continued 
Captain Perkins, “name of Hastings, and hailing 
from Salem. He got hold of an old chart a good 
deal like that I showed you boys. He talked a lot 
of hard-headed old New Englanders into outfitting 
him and sailed away for a spot in the Caribbean. 
Searched all about but couldn’t locate the wreck he 
was a-looking for, but he came across a bed o’ pearl 
oysters. This was a sight better than nothing and 
the old chap turned pearler. One day one of the 


PLANS AND STORIES 


55 


divers sent up a basket of shell and the skipper 
noticed something a-sticking to the roots of one of 
the oysters. He scraped away the coral and weeds 
and let ont a yell. That oyster was a-growing fast 
to a bar of silver bullion. To make a long story 
short, the skipper found he’d located a wreck just 
by chance, and afore a storm came up and made him 
slip his cable and clear out he salted down over 
fifteen ton of silver in his schooner’s hold.” 

‘ ‘Did he ever go back for more?” asked Harry. 

“Sure he did, lad,” chuckled the story-teller. 
‘ 4 Hunted high and low and never located that wreck 
again. If he ’d only been content with what he had 
he’d have been comfortable all his life, but he wanted 
more and afore he gave up he lost his ship in a 
hurricane and with it all he’d found; for he’d in- 
vested every cent of his share in fitting out a 
schooner of his own.” 

“Well, I don’t see why everyone laughs so at 
treasure hunting,” remarked Paul as the boys fin- 
ally rose to retire. “If there’s really sunken and 
buried treasure I don’t see why we’re not likely 
to find it, as long as others have.” 

“A great deal more has been lost in the search 
than was ever found,” said Mr. Rogers. “You 
never hear much about the failures.” 

“True as a trivet,” agreed the captain, and 
added: “Don’t you lads think I’m in earnest about 


56 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


finding treasure-trove. I don’t ever really expect 
to get a ha ’-penny out of old wrecks or pirates’ 
caches, but it’s a lot of fun thinking about it, and 
makes the cruise more interesting.” 


CHAPTER V 


THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 

The sun was just gilding the roof-tops of Havana, 
and the slopes of Cabanas heights were still bathed 
in deep shadows when the “Cormorant” passed out 
between the Morro and Punta and the boys felt that 
their treasure hunt had really commenced. 

With every sail set the little yacht sailed rapidly 
eastward along the northern 
coast of Cuba and all day 
long the boys amused them- 
selves by watching the isl- 
and through their glasses. 

Captain Perkins pointed out 
the various ports. Matan- 
zas, with its lofty “Pan,” 
was first seen, and some 
thirty miles further east the captain called the boys ’ 
attention to Cardenas. 

“Yonder’s where Ensign Bagley and four of our 
men were killed during the war with Spain,” he re- 
marked. “First Yankees that lost their lives. See 
those white-and-red houses along the beach? That’s 
X7 



58 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


‘Varadero.’ Great summer resort of the Cuban 
folks.” 

Beyond Cardenas were numerous small, verdure- 
covered islands and keys which hid the main island 
and the captain informed the boys that on one of 
these islets, known as ‘ ‘ Cayo Christo,” the Cuban 
President and members of his cabinet had their 
summer homes. 

Late in the afternoon they sighted Sagua la 

Grande, which Cap- 
tain Frank said 
was the ‘ ‘ farthest 
north ’ ’ town in 
Cuba. The boys 
went to bed with the coast line of Cuba dark against 
the starlit sky, while through the long night the 
“Cormorant” held steadily on her eastward course. 

“Goodness, are we still off Cuba?” exclaimed 
Harry as he came on deck the next day and saw 
the dull-green shoreline stretching as far as eye 
could see to east and west. 

Captain Perkins laughed. “Reckon ye haven’t 
been a-studying the chart, lad,” he said. “We’re 
only a bit more’n halfway the length of the island. 
Ye’ll wake up to-morrow morning and still see old 
Cuba a-stretching along to the s ’uthard and ye ’ll go 
to bed to-morrow night with it still in sight. ’ ’ 

“I never realized how long it was before,” re- 



THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


59 


plied Harry. “It doesn’t look so very big on tbe 
maps.” 

The yacht was now passing near a continuous 
chain of islands and Paul remarked that the whole 
northern coast of Cuba seemed to be protected by 
keys. 

“True enough,” agreed the captain. “Back of 
the kays is good anchorage and all along the coast 
there’s good harbors — though ye can’t see the ports 
’count of the islands. ‘ Place of a hundred harbors’ 
Cuba’s sometimes called. Those kays yonder are 
called the ‘ King’s Gardens’ — ‘ Jardines del Rey’ the 
Cubans call ’em ; and mighty pretty places they be. ’ ’ 

About noon Captain Perkins showed the boys the 
narrow inlet to Nuevitas harbor and explained that 
from here a railway ran to Camaguey. Beyond 
Nuevitas the coast was dim and indistinct, with 
numerous tiny towns at the heads of their little 
harbors, and the boys became quite tired of watch- 
ing the shore. 

The following morning they were off Gibara and 
in the soft morning light the boys had a good view 
of the ancient, bright-colored town on its crescent- 
shaped bay. 

‘ ‘ Gibara was the first place old Columbus stopped 
in Cuba,” said Captain Perkins. “Sailed into the 
bay in 1492. See those three big hills yonder? The 
one with the notch is called the ‘Silla’ or 4 Saddle’; 


60 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


t’other one with the flat top’s the ‘Tabla’ or ‘Table,’ 
and the third’s the ‘Pan’ or ‘Sugar Loaf.’ You 
can’t mistake ’em cause they’re bare rock at the top 
and Columbus wrote about ’em in his log. I ’spect 
they haven’t changed much since his times.” 

By noon they were off Nipe Bay, where the cap- 
tain said there were 
many Americans and 
which he stated was 
being boomed by the 
United Fruit Com- 
pany, and late in the afternoon Baracoa was left 
astern. 

“That’s the last we’ll see of Cuba this trip,” 
remarked Captain Perkins. “By midnight we’ll be 
a-crossing the Wind’ard Passage and to-morrow, if 
the wind holds, ye’ll wake up to see Haiti to loo- 
’ard.” 

Crossing the channel between Cape Maysi, Cuba 
and Haiti there was quite a heavy sea and the ‘ ‘ Cor- 
morant” jumped and bobbed about tremendously, 
but the boys were fine sailors and slept undisturbed. 

When they went on deck the next morning they 
saw land close at hand, but very different in appear- 
ance from the northern shores of Cuba to which 
they had become accustomed. Instead of the low, 
indistinct coast, along which they had sailed for 
the past three days, they now saw lofty mountains 



THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 61' 

purple against the sky, while in the foreground were 
heavily wooded hills. 

‘ 4 That looks more like the islands we saw last 
winter,” remarked Paul. 

i ‘Is that Haiti?” asked Harry. 

“Them mountains is Haiti,” replied Tom, who 
was at the wheel. “This ’ere lump o’ land’s Tor- 
tuga.” He jerked his thumb at the wooded shores 
a mile distant. 

“That’s where the buccaneers used to live,” ex- 
claimed Paul. “Captain Perkins was telling us 
about them.” 

“Were you ever in Haiti?” asked Harry. 

‘ ‘ I wuz quartermaster on a Dutch boat 
what sailed a ’tween New York an’ South 
Ameriky an’ stopped along o’ the Haiti 
ports, ’ ’ replied the sailor. ‘ ‘ An ’ a bloom- 
in ’ shame I call it, a-havin’ that there fine 
hit o’ land a-goin’ to wrack an’ ruin. 

‘ Black republic’ they calls it. Blow me, 
but hit’s a black crazy-house ef ye arsk 
me. Why, Lor’ love ye, I’ve a-seen men 
an’ wimmen, black as yer ’at an’ all 
togged out in ’igh ’ats and lace an’ satin shoes, 
a-pickin’ o’ their way atwixt puddles o’ filth an’ 
heaps o’ rottin’ garbage in the main street o’ the 
capital. ’ ’ 

“Is it really as bad as all that?” asked Harry. 



62 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Tom spat contemptuously into the sea. “Bad!” 
he exclaimed. “That ain’t nothin’ compared o’ 
some parts. Why, hack in the hush them Haitiens 
is savages — a-dancin’ about, naked as the Lord 
made ’em, an’ a-kowtowin’ to Yoodoo an’ Obeah 
like as if they wuz in the middle o’ Africa. I ain’t 
never been in the bush myself, but I’ve heard as 
’ow some o’ them blacks is actooally cannibals.” 

“Oh, come, Tom, we can’t swallow that, you 
know,” laughed Paul. 

“Tom isn’t so far off his course,” said Captain 
Perkins, who had approached unnoticed. “ ’Tain’t 
likely there’s any cannibals in Haiti now, but not 
so long back there were. There’s plenty of Yoodoo 
and Obeah dances a-going on and the less said about 
the carryin’s-on the better. Port au Prince and the 
big towns are not so bad — plenty of good buildings 
and some improvements, but there isn’t any use 
a-talking, blacks can’t govern ’emselves. When 
they ain’t having a revolution they’re a-stealing the 
public money. There’s a-plenty of decent folks 
there, though — lots of schools and the country folks 
are mighty good farmers and raise a heap of crops.” 

“Did you know that Alexander Dumas was a 
Haitien?” asked Mr. Rogers. 

“Why, no; I thought he was French,” replied 
Paul in surprise. 

“No. He was a Haitien,” replied his father. “He 


THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


63 


was born at J eremie. A number of native Haitiens 
have made tbeir mark in literature and the arts.” 

“Well, that’s certainly strange,” said Harry, “if 
the people are so backward and semi-savage.” 

“There’s a great deal of good, aristocratic French 
blood in the people,” replied Mr. Rogers, “and if 
they could only settle down and have a good govern- 
ment they would be prosperous and successful. ’ ’ 

“Are there any towns along this coast 1” asked 
Paul, who had been looking shoreward through his 
glasses. “I seem to see some houses ahead and 
some ships’ masts in that little bay.” 

“That’s Cape Haitien,” said the captain. “ ‘The 
Cape,’ folks most generally call it. It’s a fine place 
— or was once — and you can see a-plenty of fine 
statues, fountains and regular palaces standing 
about, but half tumbled-down and with dirty huts 
and lazy blacks a-lollin’ about everywhere. It’s 
kind of an interesting place, though. First fort in 
America was built there by Columbus and the ‘ Santa 
Maria’ was wrecked on a reef in the bay.” 

“I never knew Columbus was wrecked, ” exclaimed 
Harry. “It’s funny we never heard about it at 
school.” 

“There’s a heap that ye don’t learn in books,” 
declared the captain. “Along of to-morrow morn- 
ing we’ll pass the spot where the first settlement in 
America was started.” 


64 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Will we be able to see it?” asked Paul. 

“Nope. There isn’t anything to see — even if ye 
went ashore. Just a few old stones and ruins. ‘Isa- 
bella’ Columbus called it. It didn’t last long. Too 
unhealthy, and nowadays no one lives there.” 

In the afternoon the yacht passed a tiny settle- 
ment nestling at the foot of a broad, gently- sloping 
plain and with a towering precipitous hill rising 
sheer from the water near at hand. 

“That’s the first town in the Dominican Repub- 
lic,” Captain Perkins told the boys. “ ‘Monte 
Christi, ’ it ’s called, but ye can ’t see the town proper 
— it’s back in the hills. The port’s just a-s warming 
with mosquitoes and nobody lives there, ’cepting a 
few blacks and working folks.” 

“What is the name of that big mountain with the 
sliced-off face all red and yellow?” asked Harry. 

Captain Perkins laughed. “That’s another 
Morro,” he replied. “Fact; that’s the name. 
Dunno why they call it that, though. ’ ’ 

“Well, the Dominican Republic looks pretty dry 
and barren, I think,” remarked Paul. “It doesn’t 
look as if anything grew there.” 

“I agree with you, Paul,” said Mr. Rogers, who 
was also scanning the coast. 

“This ’ere’s the worst of the island,” explained 
Captain Perkins. “Wait a bit ’til we get along 
further and ye’ll find it different altogether.” 


THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


65 


By noon the coast had assumed a very different 
appearance. Huge, green-clad mountains stretched 
inland as far as eye could see, and from the hills 
slopes rich with tropical foliage reached to the very 
water’s edge. 

“I reckon ye don’t think it looks so barren now,” 
remarked Captain Perkins as the boys expressed 
their admiration at the luxuriance of the land. 

“No, indeed,” declared Paul. 

“It looks as if anything would 
grow there; but it doesn’t seem 
to be cultivated much.” 

‘ i Right as a trivet, ’ ’ cried the 
captain. “Anything will grow 
there — from beans and ’taters 
to bananas and cacao. There 
isn’t much cultivated along this 
coast — no ports to ship from ’cepting Puerto Plata 
— but ye’ll see plenty of growing crops afore we 
leave San Domingo astern. Yonder’s where Isa- 
bella is.” He pointed shoreward to a little bay. 

The boys peered intently at the wooded cove as 
if striving to penetrate the tangled jungle and see 
the vine-covered ruins of the first settlement in the 
New World. 

“Well, it’s mighty interesting to know the Span- 
iards founded their first town there,” remarked 
Harry, “even if we can’t see it.” 



66 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


4 ‘Ye’ll see plenty of things pretty nigh as old,” 
said the captain. ‘ ‘ Things that were built in Colum- 
bus ’ time. Old San Domingo’s the most historical 
spot in America, I’ll wager.” 

It was nearly sunset when the beautiful cloud- 
wreathed cone of Isabella la Torre was seen ahead 
and the evening shadows were already deep upon 
the mountain’s slopes when the “Cormorant” 



passed between the reefs which guard the harbor 
entrance to Puerto Plata and came to anchor in 
the beautiful, semicircular bay before the red-roofed 
town. 

“That’s the prettiest town we’ve seen in the 
tropics,” exclaimed Paul, and the others fully 
agreed with him. 

The party went ashore as soon as possible and 
landed at a long iron pier which extended outward 
for nearly a quarter of a mile from shore. 

“Oh, look at those carts,” cried Harry, as the 
boys walked up the dock. 

The sight which had attracted him was really a 
strange one, for numerous carts and drays were 



‘ 1 That ’s the prettiest town we ’ve seen. ’ ’ 



A small boy astride a large bull. 
























































































































































THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


67 


standing beside the dock in water which reached 
almost to the horses’ hacks, and were being loaded 
with bundles, bales and boxes from lighters. 

“ ,r Tis kind of queer at first sight,” admitted 
Captain Perkins. “Ye see the water’s so all-fired 
shallow the boats can’t get close to shore and the 
carts just drive out to the boats.” 

The boys found the town well-kept, neat, and 
with smooth, fairly 
wide streets. They 
saw the hospital, 
several good hotels, 
some fine residences, 
and several large clubhouses, and were quite sur- 
prised to find the place ablaze with electric lights. 

“San Domingo’s not so backward,” remarked the 
captain. “ ’Most every town has electric lights 
and they’re all connected by telephone and tele- 
graph. ’ ’ 

The pretty central plaza attracted the party and 
they sat for some time on the benches beneath the 
palms and mahogany trees listening to the music of 
the military band. Suddenly Paul caught sight of 
a small boy sitting astride of a big, tawny bull trot- 
ting along the street. 

“Just look at that,” he exclaimed. “Imagine 
riding a bull. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Lor ’ bless ye, ’ ’ cried the captain. 1 1 They ’re the 



68 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


regular riding critters in the republic. Everyone 
rides ’em, including women and girls. Kind of 
jolty, but sure-footed as goats. They can cover a 
heap of country in a day too — no 6 slow-plodding 
oxen’ about San Domingan cattle. Bred for riding 
and can move right lively. Ye’ll see more of ’em 
round to the other towns.” 

The captain pointed out the railway station as 
they walked along on their return to the dock and 
explained that Puerto Plata was of importance as 
the port, or outlet, of the rich interior district known 
as the “Cibao.” 

“ Quantities of coffee and cacao come from there,” 
he remarked. ‘ i Santiago and Moca are the big Cibao 
towns. The railway runs to Santiago from Puerto 
Plata and it’s some road, I tell ye. Forty-two miles 
long and climbs over a mountain a couple of 
thousand feet high in the first fifteen miles, 
using a cog-wheel and rack to do it. Runs 
straight through a mountain-top by a tunnel and 
bobs out on t’other side at Santiago. Kind of inter- 
national road as ye might say, too. Money fur- 
nished by Dutchmen, started by the Belgians, 
bridges built by Britishers, cars and engines Ameri- 
can, owned by Dominicans and run by Yankees.” 

“You seem to know all about the country,” re- 
marked Mr. Rogers. “Did you ever live in Santo 
Domingo ? ’ ’ 


THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


69 


1 ‘Well, I’ve been knocking ’round the islands and 
South America ever since I was a little chap,” re- 
plied Captain Frank. “More’n fifty year I’ve been 
sailoring and most of the time on the Spanish Main. 
A man’ll pick up a heap of knowledge about places 
he’s a-visiting in fifty year. But I didn’t get it all 
just sailing about. Learned Spanish when I was 
a young feller and now and again I’d take a spell 
ashore as the agent of the owners. Lived off and 
on in most of the islands, but never really set down 
to stay ’til I married and took over the place in 
Barbados.” 

The next morning the captain announced that he 
was going to hunt up some facts about the wreck 
which was reputed to be somewhere in the vicinity 
of the port, and the boys and Mr. Rogers amused 
themselves during his absence by taking a long drive 
through the nearby country. 

Captain Perkins returned early. 

‘ ‘ W ell, well, ’ ’ he exclaimed. ‘ ‘ What do you think, 
boys?” He chuckled as if at a good joke. 

“Did you find anything about the wreck?” cried 
Harry. “I’ll bet you did.” 

“O’ course I did,” declared the captain. “Re- 
member that fellow Hastings that I was a-telling 
you boys about — the skipper who ran across a load 
of silver when a-fishing for pearls? Well, that old 
wreck he found was the same one I was a-trying to 


70 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


run down . 9 9 He laughed heartily as if he considered 
it the funniest thought in the world. 

“Well, then there isn’t any hope for us here,” 
remarked Harry in a disappointed tone. “That 
crosses one chance off our list.” 

“May I ask how you ferret out 
such things?” asked Mr. Rogers. 
“You appear to be a born detec- 
tive. 9 ’ 

“That was dead simple,” chuckled the captain. 
“Hunted up an old chap that I knew here years 
ago. Lives down the coast a bit and has a planta- 
tion. Used to be a ship’s carpenter and an A-No. 1 
‘chips’ if I do say it myself. Reckoned he’d know 
all the yarns there was hereabouts, seeing as how 
he was always kind of keen on buried treasure yarns 
himself. Fact is, some say he wasn ’t too particular 
as to how he got his money. Heard yarns about his 
being a smuggler and gun-runner more than once. 
Old Sam knew about the wreck yarn all right and 
he’s cock-sure old Hastings struck it. Says Has- 
tings put in here and everyone about the place 
knows he found that wreck. Dunno as old Sam’s 
right, but he never heard of another wreck in these 
parts with treasure aboard and I don’t calculate 
it’s worth while poking about on our own hook. 
How about it, lads?” 

“I quite agree that it would be wasting time,” 



THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


71 


replied Mr. Rogers, striving to conceal a smile at 
tlie captain’s knowing winks. 

“I say let’s hurry up and get down to where you 
know there are wrecks,” declared Harry. 

“That’s what I say, too,” chimed in Paul. 

Accordingly the yacht’s anchor was hoisted and 
under power of her motor she soon left the land- 
locked harbor and pretty town behind and, passing 
the ancient Spanish fort and brilliant yellow light- 
house on the seaward promontory, headed eastward. 

Only a vast expanse of luxuriant green, hacked 
by lofty, forest-covered mountains stretching in 
range after range could be seen as they sailed along 
the coast, and when darkness fell the land still 
loomed against the sky to leeward. 

When the two boys awoke the following morning 
they were surprised at the absence of motion of 
the yacht. 

“I do believe we’ve stopped,” exclaimed Harry. 
“I wonder what’s happened.” 

He ran to the port and looked out. 

“Yes,” he cried. “I can see land. The water’s 
as smooth as glass and we’re not moving. I think 
we must be in a harbor.” 

The boys were soon dressed and hurried on deck. 
It was broad daylight, and Captain Perkins, who 
never seemed to sleep, was giving some orders to 
the men forward. 


72 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


The boys looked about expecting to see a town 
close at band, but none was visible. The “Cor- 
morant” was anchored on a broad bay with land 
on either side — that to the north two or three miles 
distant and that to the south barely visible through 
the morning mist rising from the 
water. To the east the water 
stretched unbroken to the horizon 
beneath the rising sun, and to the 
west it swept into a blurred haze 
which looked like land. 

Close at hand, within a hundred 
yards of the “Cormorant,” was a 
little verdure-clad island, a perfect 
gem with its setting of turquoise sea, snow-white 
coral beaches and rich green foliage. 

“Well, well,” cried Captain Perkins heartily as 
he caught sight of the boys. “How does that strike 
ye as a spot for buried treasure? Regular A-No. 1 
spot for pirates to hang out in, hey?” 

“It’s the loveliest spot I’ve ever seen,” declared 
Paul. “Wouldn’t I just love to have a house and 
live there. Where are we, Captain Frank? Are we 
going to search for treasure here?” 

Harry uttered a sudden exclamation. ‘ ‘ Hurrah ! ’ ’ 
he shouted. “I know where we are. That’s Trade 
Wind Key and we’re in Samana Bay.” 

“Right as a trivet, lad,” cried the captain. 



THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


73 


“Yonder’s the exact spot that was drawed out on 
the pirate’s map you found down to St. Kitts. 
Thought I’d surprise ye. What do you say to a 
romp ashore a-looking up where the treasure was 
hid along of the ‘ Spanish Capitaine’ as the chart 
put it?” 

“Won’t that be bully!” exclaimed Paul. 



“It will be almost as much fun as finding the 
treasure,” declared Harry. 

“What is that will be so glorious?” asked Mr. 
Rogers, who now arrived on deck. “Have you lo- 
cated a treasure-laden wreck?” 

“Oh, Uncle Charles ” Harry began, when he 

was interrupted by Captain Perkins. 

‘ i Hey, don ’t tell him, ’ ’ he exclaimed. ‘ 1 See if he ’s 
smart as you be. Recognize anything around here, 
Rogers?” 

Mr. Rogers glanced about, first to one side and 
then another, and finally fastened his gaze on the 
little island. He placed his glasses to his eyes and 
studied the shore for a moment. 

“Somehow that little Key does look familiar,” he 
remarked. “But I’m quite sure I’ve never seen it 
before. I give up, Perkins. ’ ’ 


74 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Why, it’s Trade Wind Key,” shouted both boys. 

“The place that’s shown on Harry’s map,” added 
Paul. 

“Why, to be sure,” exclaimed Mr. Rogers. 
“You’ve found your treasure island at last, Harry.” 

The boys were crazy to get ashore and could 
scarcely wait to eat their breakfasts. Meanwhile 
the launch had been lowered, provisions had been 
placed aboard, and as soon as the meal was over 
the boys tumbled into the boat, followed by Mr. 
Rogers and the captain. A few moments later they 
sprang out upon the smooth white beach. 

‘ ‘ Got your charts along with ye 1 ” asked Captain 
Perkins as the party drew the launch onto the 
sand. 

“I’ve mine,” replied Harry. “I always carry it 
along wherever I go.” 

“All right then,” said the captain. “We’ll just 
follow along of the map as if we didn’t know the 
treasure ’d been found and see how near we can 
strike it by that old chart.” 

“Here’s the beach,” exclaimed Harry. “The 
wall and ‘ coral cliff’ must be over to the left, beyond 
those woods.” 

The party found the tangled underbrush impene- 
trable, but discovered an opening and a sort of 
narrow trail close to the water. 

“Look at these rocks,” cried Paul as they started 


THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


75 


to clamber up the ledge which jutted onto the beach. 

‘ 4 They ’re just like regular steps.” 

“So they are,” agreed Mr. Rogers. Stooping, he 
examined the rocks carefully. “They certainly 
appear to have been cut by hand,” he said. 

“Reckon ye’re right,” said Captain Perkins. 
“This ’ere kay used to be a regular stronghold of 
the pirates and ye’ll find forts and cisterns and walls 
all cut out of the solid rock.” 

“This must be the wall,” declared Harry as the 
path led them to a high point above the water and 
with a rocky breastwork or wall bordering the 
seaward side. 

“It’s cut out of 
rock just as the 
captain said,” he 
continued. “Isn’t 
it wonderful to 
be right here among all these things left by the 
pirates and hunting for their cave by the aid of 
their own map?” 

“That’s the reef the map mentions,” said Paul. 
He indicated a group of rocks a short distance from 
shore and upon which the sea was breaking. Harry 
and his cousin studied the map for a moment. 

“ * Beyond the wall one hundred paces until the 
point of the reef is in line with the cliff-side,’ ” 
Harry read from the chart. 



76 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Both boys at once started pacing, with the two 
men close behind them. 

“ Here’s the spot,” said Paul when one hundred 
long steps had been covered. “But the point of 
the reef isn’t in line with the cliff-side.” 

“ Let’s have a look at the map,” said Captain 
Perkins. 4 ‘ I ’ll soon tell ye what the trouble is. ’ ’ 

He looked at the map carefully, compared it with 
the landmarks about and, placing a lead pencil upon 
the bit of paper, so that it crossed the point of the 
reef and the cliff, he drew a line. 

“I reckon that old pirate chap didn’t know much 
about map drawing,” he announced. “His bearin’s 
don’t hitch up. We’ll have to pace from yon wall 
in two or three directions and mark the distance 
and then walk ’round on the hundred-pace line and 
watch the p’int of the reef till it bears on the line 
of the cliff.” 

Following the captain’s suggestion each of the 
four members of the little party paced off the dis- 
tance from the wall in diverging lines, like the 
spokes of a wheel radiating from a hub. 

‘ 1 Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred, ’ ’ counted 
Harry and as he turned he uttered a glad shout. 
“Here ’tis,” he cried. 

The others hurried to him and looked at the reef. 

“Well, well!” exclaimed Captain Perkins. “Ye 
struck it for sure, lad.” 


THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


77 


“There’s no doubt of it,” agreed Mr. Rogers. 
“The point of the reef is certainly right in line 
with the side of the cliff.” 



’ey end the m/I one hundred pa.cn until the point op the 

teej- Is in hhe sv>th the clihftide and. hence fen paces 
■from the Coral cf/pp at the pomt mhereen strikes the Sun ‘ 
Through the npt at damn fifth fhe cavern g herem rod! l 
hi'd/en by the rock above fifth the Treasure chests! 

&j- Che a a I lean g to guard. il~ u>ctt fiith there alio Che 
botiy op Che Captain taken with his fh//>. 

harry’s copy op the pirate’s map 


“What’s the next move?” asked Paul. 

“Ten paces from the coral cliff at the point 
whereon strikes the sun through the rift at dawn,” 
Harry replied, reading the directions from his map. 
“The ten paces are easy enough,” remarked Paul. 


78 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“But I don’t see how we can tell where the sun 
strikes at dawn — it’s now nearly noon.” 

Captain Perkins burst into a roar of laughter. 
“Lor’,” he cried. “You lads are just as keen on 
a-finding that cave as if the treasure was still a-lying 
there. I reckon ye won’t have much trouble in 
locating the cave. I told ye a chap found it and took 
the loot away.” 

“But we want to find it by the map — just as if 
the treasure was there,” explained Paul. 

“Come on, we’ll measure off the ten paces any- 
way,” said Harry. He started forward, followed 
by the others. 

Ten paces brought the party to a little bluff and 
as they caught sight of it Paul shouted: “There’s 
the cave; see, right there in that corner by the 
big rock.” 

The party hurried forward and peered into the 
dark opening. Gleaming stalactites hung from the 
rocky roof, hut the innermost recesses were so dark 
that nothing could be distinguished. 

“Reckon we’ll need a light,” remarked Captain 
Perkins. “I’d ought to ’a ’ fetched a lantern along. ’ ’ 

“Can’t we make a torch!” asked Paul. “That 
would he ever so much more like treasure hunting. ’ ’ 

“Course we can,” said the captain. “Wait a bit 
an’ I’ll make a ‘flameau’ as we call it in the islan’s.” 

He stepped into the brush and presently returned 


THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


79 


with a bundle of twigs which he wrapped together 
with slender vines. 

He touched a match to this and it at once burst 
into a crackling, resinous flame. Holding it aloft, 
he stepped into the cave, followed closely by the 
boys, and with Mr. Rogers bringing up the rear. 

The cavern proved to be wide and high, the roof 
covered with stalactites and the floor rough with 
stalagmites, while in many places huge limestone 
columns joined roof aud floor. 

The party glanced about interestedly at the 
strange beauty revealed by the glare from the torch. 

“Why, there ’s another cave!” cried Paul, point- 
ing to a dark, irregular aperture in the further wall. 

“Right ye are,” exclaimed the captain. “Don’t 
see anything in here, so we’ll step into the nex’ 
chamber. ’ ’ 

The others followed the torch-bearer through the 
opening and both boys cried out in amazement, for 
instead of another cavern they saw a square vault 
walled with blocks of stone, with an arched roof 
about eight feet above the floor on which they stood. 

As the captain swung the torch slowly around 
and cast its beams into the further corners of the 
vault Harry gave a shout. 

“There’s a chest!” he cried, and dashed forward. 

“Well, well, well!” cried the captain as the others 
hurried after him. 


80 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Instead of one there were two chests revealed by 
the torch light. One of wood, with fragments of 
rusty iron bands still clinging to the rotten planks ; 
the other larger and of dull-colored metal. Both 
chests were coated more or 
less with a thin layer of 
stalactite formation which 
had dropped from the roof 
above and about the covers and edges this showed 
signs of having been broken away. 

“ Reckon they’re the chests the treasure was in,” 
remarked the captain. “Mebbe that other chap 
left something behind. Better have a look inside, 
lads.” 

Sticking his torch in a crevice of the stones, the 
captain tugged at the lid of the smaller box. It 
stuck slightly and then flew open and the boys 
peered eagerly within. The chest was filled with a 
mass of loose, dusty material and the captain lifted a 
handful of the mass and examined it closely. A few 
bits of gold thread and silver lace gleamed in its 
midst and the captain pointed these out to the won- 
dering boys. 

“All that’s left of a heap of old-time finery,” he 
remarked. “When that chest was a-hid here I 
reckon ’twas filled with as pretty a lot of clothes 
as ye’d see in many a day. Nothing left now but 
the bits of tinsel.” 



THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


81 


“Perhaps there’s something underneath,” ex- 
claimed Harry. “Let’s dump it all out and see.” 

It was quite difficult to break the chest from its 
bed of dripstone ; but all pulled and pushed together 
and at last the chest ripped from its place and 
tipped over with a little crash, spilling its contents 
over the stone floor. 

Everyone sneezed as the fine, powdery dust rose 
in clouds, but presently it settled down and while 
Captain Perkins held the torch close the boys 
eagerly pawed over the rotten remains of ancient 
garments. 

Suddenly Paul gave an exclamation. 

“Here’s something,” he cried, and shook the 
dust from some solid object which he had found. 

The others crowded close and examined the find. 
It proved to be an ornamental, brooch-like buckle 
of dull gold. 

“You’re in luck,” said Mr. Rogers. “That’s cer- 
tainly a fine souvenir of the pirates, Paul.” 

Harry was still diligently searching and soon drew 
forth several small round objects from the bottom 
of the mass. 

“They’re only buttons,” he said in a disap- 
pointed tone as he examined them. 

‘ 4 Right ye are, ’ ’ agreed the captain. 1 ‘ But they ’re 
solid gold and made from old Spanish coins. I 
reckon your souveeners are mighty interesting, too.” 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


The boys were greatly elated and not until the 
last trace of the decayed fragments had been care- 
fully searched were they convinced that no other 
bits of metal were concealed within the mass. 

‘‘Perhaps there’ll be something in that other 
chest,” said Harry. 

“We’ll soon see,” said Paul, and, aided by Mr. 
Rogers and the captain, they pried at the lid of the 
metal box. When at last the cover gave and creaked 
open on its rusty hinges and the boys peered inside 
they gave a startled cry and fell back. Within the 
chest and gleaming in the flickering torch light was 
a pile of human bones ! 

“Reckon that’s the old ‘capitain’ chap that the 
chart tells of,” remarked Captain Perkins. “Noth- 
ing to be skeered about.” He held the torch close 
and gingerly poked the skull with his finger. 

The boys, now recovered from their momentary 
horror at the unexpected sight, looked curiously at 
the skeleton. 

“Lor’, but it does seem funny to be a-looking at 
that old chap after all these years,” remarked the 
captain. “Look-a here,” he continued. “Some of 
his clothes is still a-hanging on his bones.” He 
pointed to rotten, crackled leather on the leg bones 
and a half-decayed leather cap beside the skull. 

“And his hair is still there,” exclaimed Harry 
with a shudder. “Ugh! He’s an awful sight. Do 


THE PIRATES’ ISLAND 


83 


shut him up, Captain Frank. He gives me the 
shivers. ’ ’ 

Captain Perkins dropped the lid, hut laughed 
heartily as he did so. 

‘ ‘ W ell, he ’s no beauty, ’ ’ he cried. 4 4 Sort o 9 creepy 
I admit, but there ain’t many lads can say they’ve 
looked on such a sight. A chap killed by real pirates 
and a-buried to look after their treasure.” 

The torch was now burning low and the party 
started to retrace their steps towards the open air. 
Suddenly Harry stubbed his toe and fell sprawling 
on the floor. 

“Are you hurt, Harry?” cried Mr. Rogers, 
springing forward. 

“No; I’m all right,” laughed the boy, rising to 
his feet. “I wonder what I tripped over?” 

He commenced groping on the floor. “Here it 
is,” he announced. “Feels like a loose piece of 
rock. ’ 9 

Captain Perkins held the remnants of the torch 
close to the object, but before a good view was 
obtained the flame sputtered and went out. 

“Something besides stone,” the captain declared. 
“Bring it outside for a look. Can’t see anything 
in here.” 

Guided by the light at the entrance, the party 
picked their way through the cave to the outer 


air. 


84 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“ Why, it’s a bunch of old iron,” exclaimed Harry. 
“All cemented together with limestone.” 

“Bless your heart,” cried Captain Perkins as he 
glanced at the object. “They’re real pirates’ 
weapons. Look, lads, there’s a couple of sword 
handles and part of an old pistol.” 

“Hurrah!” shouted Harry. “Won’t the fellows 
at home open their eyes when they see all these 
things?” 

“Isn’t it lucky we visited Trade Wind Key?” 
cried Paul. “Even if the treasure was taken away 
we found the cave and some real pirate things.” 

“And everything’s just as shown on that old 
map,” exclaimed Harry. 

“It’s certainly marvelous and most romantic,” 
declared Mr. Rogers. “Your long search for the 
pirates’ cave has been rewarded at last.” 

“Lor’! It’s like a story-book a-coming to life,” 
cried Captain Frank. 

Note. — For a further account of Trade Wind Key and the pirates' 
treasure, see “An American Crusoe." 


CHAPTER VI 


THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 

The boys were anxious to see more of tbe little 
island which had once been the stronghold of the 
pirates, and Captain Perkins suggested that they 
should walk completely around it, following the 
shore. The beach was firm and hard and in most 
places walking was easy, and 
the boys were greatly interested 
in the pelicans and other sea 
fowl which rose in great flocks 
as the visitors approached them. 

They found the high, sandy hill 
indicated on the map ; they 
stopped to gaze at the little 
cacti - covered islets off the 
beach, and clambered over the 
high limestone ridge that crossed the islet from 
shore to shore. 

“ There ’s the lagoon / 1 remarked Harry as they 
approached a shallow inlet bordered with man- 
groves. 4 4 Everything is just as shown on the 
chart.” 



85 


86 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“ Except for the sea-monsters,” laughed Mr. 
Rogers. 

Beyond the lagoon the party swung around a 
broad, rounded point of beach and came suddenly 
and unexpectedly in view of the “Cormorant” rid- 
ing at anchor. 

Everyone stopped in surprise. A few yards 
from the yacht was an ugly-looking little gray 
gunboat with the Dominican flag flying from her 
stern. 

“Where on earth did that boat come from'?” ex- 
claimed Harry. 

‘ ‘ Lor ’ knows, ’ ’ replied Captain Perkins. ‘ ‘ They ’re 
always a-hanging about a-looking for gun-runners. 
Reckon they think we’re smugglers.” 

The party hurried forward towards the landing 
place, forgetting for the moment all about the pic- 
nic lunch they had intended to eat beneath the palm 
trees. As they came in sight of the launch they 
saw another boat drawn up beside it and from a 
shady spot beneath the trees a man in white uniform 
rose and stepped towards them. 

“I’m Captain Nickerson, commander of that 
Coast-Guard boat,” he announced with a pleasant 
smile. “Saw your yacht in here and ran in to in- 
vestigate. Thought she might be a gun-runner or 
smuggler; it’s so unusual to see a craft lying here. 
Your men showed me the yacht’s papers and I 


THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 87 

waited to meet you — such a pleasure to run across 
Americans down here — and to explain our intru- 
sion. ’ ’ 

“Glad to meet you,” cried Captain Perkins. 
“Reckoned that was what ye was here for when 
I saw the gunboat. My name’s Perkins — owner of 
the ‘Cormorant,’ and this is Mr. Rogers, his son 
Paul, and his nephew, Harry Thurston.” 

“Did you find the 
pirates’ treasure?” 
asked Captain Nicker- 
son as he shook hands 
with the boys. 

“We found the cave 
and an old buckle and some gold buttons in a chest,” 
replied Paul. 

“And these old weapons,” added Harry. He 
showed the captain the piece of limestone contain- 
ing the sword-hilts and pistol. 

“And there was a skeleton in another chest,” 
said Paul. 

“This is all most interesting,” declared the com- 
mander. “I’ve always heard there was such a cave 
here, but understood it had been found and looted 
several years ago. How did you first learn of the 
place ? ’ ’ 

“Set down and have a bite with us, Captain,” 
cried Captain Perkins. “I’m fair famished and I 



88 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


reckon Rogers and the lads have pretty good appe- 
tites, too.” 

As they picnicked under the palms the boys told 
Captain Nickerson about their last winter’s cruise; 
how Harry had discovered the old map by falling 
into the ancient dungeon at St. Kitts and of their 
search through the various islands for the spot 
indicated on the chart. Then they told how they 
had met Captain Perkins, how he had at once recog- 
nized the map as representing Trade Wind Key 
and of their present cruise in Morgan’s wake after 
buried treasure and sunken wrecks. 

“You’re certainly destined to have a mighty good 
time, ’ ’ declared Nickerson. ‘ ‘ To judge by your past 
adventures I imagine you’ll likely as not be suc- 
cessful. I’m firmly convinced there’s plenty of 
buried treasure still hidden about. Too bad you 
didn ’t arrive a month ago. I could have put you in 
touch with a man who claims to know where there’s 
such a hoard.” 

“Do tell us about it,” cried Harry. “What’s 
become of the man?” 

“His name’s Riviere,” said Captain Nickerson. 
“A queer chap who was caretaker of a bankrupt 
estate over on the south side of the Bay. It seems 
that he ran across an old derelict of a Frenchman 
and, finding him a fellow countryman, took him over 
to his place and gave him a home. The old fellow 


THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 89 


was blind and helpless and Riviere took care of him 
like a brother. Before the old cripple died he told 
Riviere a yarn about the treasure. Said his grand- 
father was a pirate and was chased into Samana 
Bay by a sloop of war and ran in among the keys 
over on the San Lorenzo coast of the Bay, where he 
hid his loot in one of the caves. A storm came up 
and wrecked his ship and he and the crew — or those 
that didn’t drown — took to the bush and made their 
way to the towns on the south coast. The old chap 
— grandfather of the blind beggar — moved over to 
Haiti — and never got a chance to come back for his 
treasure, as the French and Spanish were at war 
at that time. When he died he left a rough map of 
the place where he ’d hidden the treasure to his son. 
The son died of Yellow Jack and the map was buried 
with him. His son — the blind chap — had often seen 
the map and made one from memory and came over 
here to try and locate the loot. A tackle-block fell 
and hit him on the head and when they got through 
with him at the hospital he was stone blind. He 
couldn’t find the place without his eyes, and when- 
ever he talked about it people thought him off his 
head on account of the knock-out and wouldn’t lis- 
ten to him. Riviere was the only man that took him 
seriously, and after he died Riviere started out to 
look up the treasure. He found the remains of the 
wreck — or says he did — and claimed he ’d located the 


90 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


cave, but that the bottom had dropped out and the 
treasure was under three or four fathoms of water. 
He tried to get some one to stake him to a diving 
outfit to recover it, but couldn’t get anyone to be- 
lieve in him, and last month he sailed for Trinidad 
to try and get some relative there to help him. ’ ’ 

“That Riviere chap’s the man for us to run 
down,” cried Captain Perkins. “We’ve got the 
diving outfit and everything else. If we can locate 
that old cave we’ll yank up the treasure nex’ to no 
time. ’ ’ 

“The story sounds plausible, I’ll admit,” com- 
mented Mr. Rogers. “Although I really can’t un- 
derstand how the 4 bottom’ could drop out of a 
cave. ’ ’ 

“I don’t suppose it actually did ‘drop out’,” said 
Nickerson. “The caves over San Lorenzo way are 
peculiar. There are hundreds of them — each in a 
little conical hill by itself. Some of these hills are on 
dry land and others are in the form of small islands. 
Many of these have the caves above the sea, but 
in others the floors are covered by several fathoms 
of water. I’ve been in many of them and there is 
every evidence that they have risen or fallen during 
past years. Many of those which are now high and 
dry are filled with sea-shells and corals, and in some 
of those now submerged you can see stalagmites 
on the floors, proving they were once above the sea. 


THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 91 


I expect Riviere’s treasure-cave sank slowly in this 
way — if he told the truth about the treasure.” 

“I should think ’twould be easy to find treasure, 
if it’s just placed in a cave, by looking in each one 
in turn,” remarked Paul. 

Nickerson laughed. “It does sound easy,” he 
replied, “but you’d find it like looking for a needle 



in a haystack, as the old saying puts it. There are 
scores and scores of the caverns and some of them 
extend for hundreds of feet into the hills. It would 
take years to thoroughly explore them all.” 

“You don’t happen to know the name of the 
Riviere man’s relative in Trinidad, do ye?” asked 
Captain Perkins. “I’m a-going to run down there 
and try to locate the Frenchman.” 

“I’m afraid I can’t help you there,” replied 
Nickerson. “The agents of La Honda — the estate 
where he was caretaker — have an office in San Do- 
mingo City. Lopez y Compania is the name, on 


92 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Calle Comercio, I believe. No doubt they’ll be 
able to give you the information. But I must take 
my leave now. We’re due in Sabana la Mar this 
afternoon. ’ ’ 

Bidding good-bye to all and wishing the treasure- 
seekers the best of luck, the commander stepped 
into his little power-dory and soon boarded his gun- 
boat. 

“Isn’t it rather unusual to find an American in 
command of a Dominican gunboat?” inquired Mr. 
Rogers as the party stood watching the little iron- 
clad get under way. 

‘‘Lor’, no,” replied Captain Perkins. “All these 
gasolene coast-guard craft are officered by Yankees. 
You see, Uncle Sam has charge of the customs 
down here and these tin gunboats are part of the 
service. ’ ’ 

“They evidently keep a pretty sharp watch 
on strange vessels,” remarked Mr. Rogers. “I 
shouldn’t think there ’d be much chance for smug- 
glers.” 

The captain laughed. “With pretty nigh a thou- 
sand miles of coast, chock full of coves and bays 
and rivers, plenty of craft get in with contraband. 
’Tain’t so much the smuggling that Uncle Sam’s 
a-trying to stop as the gun-running. If they can’t 
get guns and ammunition into the place they can’t 
revolute and revolutin’s the curse of the country. 


THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 93 


Spite of all that’s done they manage to get the stuff 
in though and every little spell a new fracas breaks 
out.” 

The afternoon was now well advanced and as 
there was nothing more to keep them on the key the 
party boarded the launch and a few minutes later 
the anchor was up and the “ Cormorant” was 
headed towards the open sea. 

“See that little bay yonder?” said Captain Per- 
kins, pointing to a small cove on the northern shore. 
“ ’Tain’t much to look at, but mighty historical. 
First scrap ’twixt Injuns and Spaniards happened 
right in that cove. ‘Bahia de las flechas’ the folks 
call it, meaning ‘Bay of the Arrows’.” 

“Aren’t there any towns about here?” asked 
Paul. “I can’t see anything but woods and a few 
small villages of huts.” 

“Not along hereabouts,” replied the captain. 
“Back up the bay ’bout eight miles ye’ll strike 
Santa Barbara, sometimes called ‘Samana,’ and 
back ’bout ten miles further and close to the head 
of the bay is Sanchez. Railroad runs from there 
into the interior to a place called ‘La Vega,’ mean- 
ing ‘The Plain.’ There’s no use of visiting ’em, 
though. Santa Barbara’s a neat little place, mostly 
settled by darkies from the States, brought down 
here when an American company leased a heap of 
land along the Bay. Sanchez is nothing but a rail- 


94 * 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


road terminal. Ye’ll find a plenty of things to in- 
terest ye around to the City, I ’ll wager. ’ ’ 

By sundown the yacht was well into Mona Pas- 
sage and Captain Perkins called the boys ’ attention 
to a dim, purple blur on the eastern horizon. 

“Yonder’s Porto Rico,” he said. “It’s the last bit 
of United States ye’ll see for many a day, ’cepting 
we get a glimpse of Mona Island by starlight.” 

When the boys came on deck the following day 
they found the land close at hand to the north and 
Tom informed them that they had rounded the east- 
ern end of San Domingo and were nearing Macoris. 

“Are we going to stop at Macoris?” asked Paul 
when Captain Perkins approached. 

“No,” replied the captain. “It’s just a sugar 
town up the river quite a bit and nothing particular 
to see. If this wind holds we ’ll make San Domingo 
City before sundown.” 

Soon after lunch the captain pointed out a lofty 
cloud-capped peak that rose far above the mass of 
rugged mountains back from the coast. 

“That’s Loma Tina,” he said. “Highest moun- 
tain in the West Indies. Pretty nigh two miles 
high.” 

“I’d like to go through the interior of San Do- 
mingo, ’ ’ remarked Harry. ‘ 4 It must be a wonderful 
country. ’ ’ 

“Richest place in the Indies,” said the captain. 



The Homenaje, the oldest fort in America. 



Half ruined San Francisco convent. 



































































































































THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 95 


“I’ve never been through it myself, but IVe talked 
with chaps that have. Forests filled with mahogany 
and lignum- vitae ; gold, iron, nickel, copper and I 
dunno what else, and a regular mountain of salt in 
one spot.” 

“Don’t they mine the metals and cut the timber ?” 
asked Paul. 

“Not much to speak of,” replied the captain. 
“The roads are so all-fired bad they can’t get the 
best of the timber out and no one’s found the rich- 
est of the gold mines yet. In the old days the 
Spaniards got plenty of it — shipped more gold and 
precious stones from this island than from any of 
their colonies. All they get now’s what they wash 
out of the river beds.” 

“Sooner or later the island will be developed,” 
remarked Mr. Rogers. ‘ 1 1 presume a stable govern- 
ment would help a great deal towards bringing capi- 
tal in to exploit the island’s resources.” 

c 6 Right as a trivet, ’ ’ exclaimed the captain. ‘ ‘ Get 
a good, solid government here and San Domingo ’d 
make the rest of the world set up and take notice.” 

By mid-afternoon the “Cormorant” headed in 
towards the entrance to San Domingo harbor and 
a few minutes later sails were furled and under 
power the yacht approached the mouth of the river. 

“Isn’t that a fine old castle?” exclaimed Paul as 
the boys eagerly scanned the shore. 


96 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


1 1 Yonder’s the Homenaje,” said the captain. 
“ Built in the time of the old conquerors — 1509 if 
I recollect right. Oldest fort in America. Ye’ll 
hear tell of Columbus a-being shut up there in 
chains, but fact is he was thrown into prison on 
t’other side of the river. Ye can just get a glimpse 
of the ruins over yonder.” 

4 ‘ It’s a most imposing structure — whether Colum- 
bus was imprisoned there or not,” declared Mr. 
Rogers. “I didn’t imagine that anything so thor- 
oughly mediaeval in appearance and so beautifully 
mellowed by age was to be seen in the western 
hemisphere. ’ ’ 

The yacht was now passing through the narrowest 
portion of the river’s mouth, with the shores within 
stone’s throw on either hand, and a minute later 
entered the harbor proper. 

Stretching along the river’s bank to the left was 
the ancient town, its waterfront lined with docks 
and shipping, its buildings stretching inland over 
a hill and here and there enormous ruins standing 
boldly up above the more modern structures. The 
boys had scant opportunity to take in the details of 
the town before the 4 ‘ Cormorant” reached the docks. 
Captain Perkins was busy with the customs and 
health officers, but as soon as the formalities were 
over the boys plied him with eager questions. 

“ Yonder’s the house of Diego Columbus,” he said 


THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 97 


in reply to Paul's first question regarding a massive 
ruined building close to the dock. 

“I never knew there was but one Columbus," ex- 
claimed Harry. “Who was Diego?" 

“Son of old Christopher," replied the captain. 
“He was Viceroy of the island and built such a 
whopping big house, with cannons on the walls, that 
the old King of Spain got scared for fear Diego 'd 
take it into his head to start a government on his 
own hook. Fired him from his job on account of it. ' ' 

“Didn't Christopher Columbus have a house here 
too ? ' ' asked Harry. 

“Reckon He did," replied the captain. “But I 
dunno where 'tis. That tree yonder's where they 
say he moored his caravels." He pointed out an 
enormous, gnarled silk-cotton tree a short distance 
from the dock. 

“It certainly looks ancient enough to have been 
a good-sized tree in Columbus' day," said Mr. 
Rogers. “But I rather question the truth of the 
tradition. ' ' 

“Well, I dunno 'bout that," chuckled the captain. 
“There's plenty of things left that was here in his 
time and we might as well be a-stepping ashore and 
looking at 'em." 

A few steps from the dock the party passed 
through the arched gateway in the ancient city wall. 

“Goodness, what an enormous wall!" exclaimed 


98 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Harry. “I should think ’twould have been impos- 
sible to capture a city surrounded by such a pro- 
tection. 9 9 

“ Pretty good shape for a bit of masonry nigh 
five hundred years old , 9 ’ remarked Captain Perkins. 
“But it didn’t stop old Sir Francis Drake from at- 
tacking the town back in 1589. He didn’t take it, 
but the Spaniards were mighty glad to get rid of 
him by a-paying a heap of money and jewels to 
buy him off. Left a souveenir of his visit in the shape 
of a cannon ball in the cathedral roof. Ye can see 
it there yet. ’ ’ 

Beyond the wall the party strolled up the hill 
towards the central Plaza, the boys stopping fre- 
quently to gaze in wonder and interest at ancient 
houses with the arms of Alvarado, Ponce de Leon 
and other famous old grandees and dons above their 
doorways. 

‘ ‘ I thought Havana was old and interesting, ’ ’ said 
Paul, “but it seems modern and new compared to 
this place. I feel as if I’d stepped back about four 
hundred years when I look at these houses of the 
men we read about in histories.” 

“I told ye ’twas the most historical spot in Amer- 
ica,” said the captain. “Wait a bit till ye get to 
the cathedral and see the bones of old Columbus 
himself. ’ ’ 



They passed through the gateway in the city wall. 



The massive Cathedral where Columbus sleeps. 








THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 99 


< ‘ Why, I thought Columbus was buried in Spain — 
that the Spaniards took his remains from Havana 
when they gave up Cuba. That’s what we learned 
at school,” exclaimed Harry. 

“That was a joke on the Spaniards,” chuckled 
the captain. “Ye see ’twas this a-way. The old 
admiral died in Spain and left directions to be 
shipped over here to San Domingo to be buried. 
When the French took the island back in 1765 the 
Spaniards dug up a coffin which they thought was 
that of Columbus and carted it oft to Havana. That 
was the same coffin they took off to Spain when the 
Yankees licked ’em. That coffin didn’t have an in- 
scription or anything to show who was inside, but 
later on another coffin was dug up here in San 
Domingo Cathedral with an inscription reading, 
1 Discoverer of America, First Admiral and Illus- 
trious and Famous Don Christobal Colon.’ Of 
course the Spaniards wouldn’t admit they’d made 
a mistake, but there’s not a mite of doubt that the 
coffin they took was that of the Admiral’s son, 
Diego, the same chap who built the big house I 
pointed out to you.” 

They had now arrived at the pretty plaza, shaded 
with palms, and with the immense, massive cathe- 
dral on the further side. In the center of the plaza 
they stopped to admire a magnificent bronze statue 


100 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


of Columbus, and then crossed the narrow street 
and entered the cathedral. 

Huge as it had seemed from the outside, even 
larger it appeared when viewed from within. Be- 
fore them stretched the vast nave floored with foot- 
worn ancient Moorish tiles. Far above their heads 
curved the great, groined arch of the roof, supported 
by lofty columns, and all about the sides were little 
chapels with altars loaded with gold and silver, and 
with many a rare painting by old masters hanging 
above them. Dominating all was the high altar of 
beaten silver and gold glinting dully in the soft light 
from the stained-glass windows. 

All was impressive, beautiful and interesting, but 
as with one accord everyone turned towards a mag- 
nificent monument of Italian marble flanked by two 
carved lions. It was the tomb of Columbus and the 
boys gazed long in reverent admiration at this splen- 
did memorial which the Italian government erected 
in honor of its most famous son. 

Several hours were spent in the cathedral, exam- 
ining the many interesting things it contained, ad- 
miring the intricate carvings, studying the paintings 
and mosaics, and listening to Captain Perkins ’ 
translations of the quaint inscriptions on the tombs 
of old Conquistadors. 

At last the deepening shadows warned them that 
the sun was setting and, leaving the cathedral, a cab 



It was the tomb of Columbus 
















































































































































THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 101 


was hailed and the party drove here and there about 
the city. They saw the ruins of San Nicolas church 
with the tomb of bloodthirsty old Governor Ovando. 
They visited massive, half-ruined San Francisco 
within the roofless interior of which lie famous 
Ojeda and Bartholomew Columbus, founder of the 
city, and the captain pointed out the church of Santo 
Domingo looming imposingly against the western 
sky. 

1 1 That ought to int’rest you lads,” he remarked. 
“ First college in America was a-started in that old 
church. Ever read about Las Casas, the priest 
who went along with Columbus and gave his life 
a-trying to help the natives, ’stead of killing ’em off 
or making slaves of ’em? Well, he’s the chap who 
ran the college yonder. Taught the youngsters their 
A. B. C.’s here ’bout a hundred years afore our 
ancestors first hopped ashore at Plymouth Rock. ’ ’ 

“ Aren’t we going to look up those Lopez people?” 
Harry inquired as the carriage turned towards the 
docks. 

“No use to-night,” replied the captain. “No 
one’s a-doing any business this time of day. First 
thing to-morrow I’ll hunt ’em up.” 

The following morning they walked to the Calle 
Comercio, a well-kept business street bordered by 
numerous stores and modern buildings, and, after 
one or two inquiries, found the office of Lopez y 


102 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Compania. Senor Lopez proved a pleasant and 
agreeable yonng man who had been educated in the 
United States and spoke English perfectly. 

“Yes, indeed/ ’ he said, in reply to Captain Per- 
kins’ inquiries. “I can readily furnish you with 
the address of Mr. Riviere’s cousin. It is E. Pinard, 
33 Almond Street, Port of Spain. 
May I inquire why you desire to 
ascertain the whereabouts of Mr. 
Riviere? We found him very 
satisfactory while in our employ, 
but quite obsessed with the de- 
lusion that he held the secret of 
some hidden treasure. In fact it 
was for the purpose of enlisting 
the aid of his cousin to obtain the 
treasure that he went to Trinidad.” 

Captain Perkins laughed. “That’s just why 
we’re a-looking for him,” he said. “We’re a- 
treasure hunting ourselves and I’ve got all the 
diving fixings on the yacht. Cap’n Nickerson met 
up with us over in Samana Bay and told us the 
yarn about Riviere. Calculated as how he might 
be willing to go shares on the treasure for the sake 
of our help. ’ ’ 

“Really you cannot be serious,” exclaimed Senor 
Lopez in a surprised tone. 

“Lor’ bless you, of course I be,” cried the cap- 



THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 103 


tain. 1 ‘No earthly reason why Riviere shouldn’t 
know where there’s treasure. Plenty of it been hid 
and one chap’s as likely to get it as another. ’Spe- 
cially if a pirate’s grandson tells him about it and 
gives him a map. ’ ’ 

“I found a map and we found the treasure cave 
by its help,” exclaimed Harry. “The treasure ’d 
been taken away but we got some buttons and a 
buckle and some old weapons. ’ ’ 

The boys then told about their adventures and the 
cave. 

1 1 Oh, I have not the least doubt that treasures still 
remain undiscovered in the islands; and especially 
in Santo Domingo,” said Senor Lopez. “But it 
certainly seems strange to learn that you are de- 
liberately setting forth to search for it. However, 
I wish you the best of success.” 

“Well, we find lots of fun in doing it, anyway,” 
said Paul. 

“And learn a great deal about the different places 
and people and their history,” said Harry. 

i 1 In my opinion that is of immensely greater value 
than all the treasure ever hidden by the pirates,” 
declared Senor Lopez as his visitors rose to 
leave. 

As soon as they reached the street Captain Per- 
kins gave vent to one of his hearty laughs. “Bet 
he thinks we’re all crazy,” he cried. “Some folks 


104 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


don’t have a mite of imagination or the least idee 
of romance. That Lopez chap might be a-setting 
right on top of a bunch of treasure and wouldn’t 
look under his chair.” 

There was still much to he seen in the historic old 
town, and the day was spent visiting the various 



ruins and ancient buildings, the Homenaje castle 
at the entrance to the harbor and the still older 
remains of the original town on the further side 
of the river. 

They also made the acquaintance of several Amer- 
icans who were employed in the revenue service 
and Captain Perkins invited them to dinner aboard 
the yacht. 

It was a very merry little party that sat about 
the table under the awning on the after-deck, and 
the boys listened with the greatest interest to the 


THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 105 


stories of adventure and the strange experiences 
related by their visitors. 

“If I was to search for treasure/ ’ remarked one 
gentleman, “I’d spend my time trying to find lost 
mines. ’ ’ 

“What are ‘lost mines’ ?” inquired Paul. 

“Mines that were once worked, but which, for one 
cause or another, have been deserted and have not 
been rediscovered,” explained Mr. Clayton. “There 
are many of them in South and Central America 
and even here in Santo Domingo.” 

“I can’t understand why they were deserted if 
they were worth working,” remarked Harry. 

“There were many reasons,” replied their vis- 
itor. “Sometimes the Indians rose and massacred 
their Spanish masters and carefully concealed the 
mines to prevent others from working them. At 
other times disease or other causes, such as hostile 
natives or international wars, compelled the Span- 
iards to leave mines, which soon became hidden 
in the luxuriant growth of the tropics. In a great 
many cases, however, only the very richest of the 
ore could be worked by the ancient methods and 
the mines were abandoned as worthless, and yet 
with modern mining appliances and processes they 
would be immensely valuable. For example, here in 
Santo Domingo there were fabulously rich gold 
mines at one time. Millions of dollars’ worth of 


106 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


gold and silver were shipped from here to Spain, 
and yet to-day there is not a single real mine known, 
although gold is found in nearly every river, and the 
natives frequently wash out dust and nuggets by 
the crudest methods. This is all placer gold, how- 
ever, and the mother-lodes have been lost for hun- 
dreds of years. Over in Central America, at a 
place known as Chiriqui, between Panama and Costa 
Rica, there was once a marvelous mine known as 
‘Tisingal.’ It’s been lost for centuries and the man 
who finds it will be a multimillionaire in a short 
time . 1 9 

‘ ‘Speaking of the old mines,” said another gentle- 
man, “reminds me of the ‘Pig of Gold,’ the largest 
nugget ever found and which was lost right here in 
San Domingo.” 

“Do tell us about that,” cried both boys. 

“There’s not much to tell,” replied the other. 
“The nugget was found in the early days of the 
settlement and was brought to San Domingo City. 
The old chronicles state that it was in the form of 
a ‘pig’ and as large as a table. In fact, before it 
was put aboard ship to be sent to the King of Spain 
a party of eight men sat about the great nugget and 
ate a meal served upon it, and boasted that even the 
king had never dined from such a priceless table. 
The huge nugget, with a vast amount of other treas- 
ure was placed aboard a ship about to sail for Spain 


THE MOST HISTORIC SPOT IN AMERICA 107 


but while at anchor off the town a sudden storm 
wrecked the vessel and sent the 4 golden pig’ and all 
the other treasure to the bottom of the sea.” 

“ Goodness ! I should think someone would search 
for that,” exclaimed Paul. 

“Couldn’t we go down and look for it with the 
diving suit?” asked Harry. 

Everyone laughed at the boys* earnestness. 

“No use of that,” declared Captain Perkins. “I 
heard of that treasure years ago and spent a good 
bit of time a-sounding about where the old ship 
was s ’posed to V sunk. No bottom there but soft 
ooze. I’ll bet that gold’s a-buried a hundred feet 
deep in mud.” 


CHAPTER VII 


THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 

Early in the morning the “Cormorant” slipped 
silently down the Ozama River under the towering 
walls of the Homenaje and into the blue waters of 
the Spanish Main. 

“When do you expect to 
reach Trinidad ! ’ ’ asked 
Mr. Rogers as the yacht 
plowed steadily towards 
the south, with the trade 
wind humming through her 
rigging. 

“ ’Bout next Wednes- 
day,” replied Captain Per- 
kins, “barring accident and if the wind holds.” 

“Why, that’s four days,” exclaimed Harry. “I 
didn’t know Trinidad was so far away.” 

“ ’Bout eight hundred miles,” replied the cap- 
tain. “We’re making pretty nigh ten knots and 
ought to sight land by daylight Wednesday.” 

“What land will we see first?” inquired Harry. 

108 



THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 109 


‘ ‘ The Carupano mountains most likely, ’ ’ answered 
the captain. 

“Are they in Trinidad ?” asked Paul. 

“Lor’ bless your heart, no,” answered the cap- 
tain. “They’re in Venezuela, just to the nor’ard 
of the Gulf of Paria, and Trinidad’s just t’other 
side of the Gulf. If we strike a little mite to the 
east’ard we’ll see Trinidad afore South America.” 

For the next three days there was little to inter- 
est the boys. On every side stretched the sparkling 
sea, patches of gulf weed floated past, flying fish 
broke from the water and whirred away as the yacht 
plunged steadily onward; the sun rose and fell in 
a riot of gorgeous tints and the wind blew strong 
and steadily day and night. 

The boys amused themselves by fishing and caught 
several fine dolphins and bonita ; they studied maps 
and charts, practised splicing and tying ornamental 
knots under the captain’s direction, and listened to 
his yarns of the sea. 

“ Be up bright and early, lads, if ye want to catch 
the first glimpse of South America,” said the cap- 
tain as the boys retired Tuesday night. “We’d 
ought to sight the coast a bit after sunup. ’ ’ 

When the boys arose the following morning and 
hurried on deck they looked ahead and saw land 
within plain sight. 


110 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Is that South America?” asked Paul as the cap- 
tain approached. 

“It's the tip-end of the continent,” he replied. 
4 ‘ That blur of land to the east’ard’s Trinidad.” 

The boys studied the new land through their 
glasses. 

“It all looks just alike to me,” remarked Harry 
presently. “It seems to be one continuous stretch 
of coast.” 

“ ’Tain’t surprising,” said Captain Perkins. 
“Trinidad’s just a bit of South America cut off from 
the rest of the land by a couple of narrow straits — 
‘bocas’ they’re called — meaning mouths. The one 
to the nor’ard’s called the ‘ Dragon’s Mouth’ and the 
one to south ’ard’s called the ‘ Serpent’s Mouth.’ 
We’re heading for the Dragon’s Mouth now, but 
ye can’t see it from here. Port of Spain’s just 
inside the mouth, on the Gulf of Paria. ’ ’ 

By the time breakfast was over the narrow en- 
trance to the Gulf of Paria was visible, with the 
rich, green hills of Trinidad to the left and the Paria 
Peninsula to the right. Numerous sailing vessels 
as well as several steamers were in sight, as from 
various routes the ships approached the Dragon’s 
Mouth, their courses converging as they neared the 
narrow entrance to the Gulf. 

As they drew close to the Boca the boys discov- 
ered that what had at first appeared as the nearest 


THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 111 


point of Trinidad was in reality a number of beau- 
tiful, wooded islets separated by narrow channels. 
With their great, wave-worn cliffs, smooth beaches 
and tropical verdure they appeared most attractive 
and here and there pretty villas and bungalows 
peeped from among the foliage. 

As they passed these the broad, tranquil Gulf was 
exposed to view, with Port of Spain on its semi- 
circular plain, backed by lofty, green-clad hills. 
Passing the quarantine station on “Five Islands ,’ ’ 
the “Cormorant” came to anchor a short distance 
from the waterfront, and the boys gazed with in- 
terest at the busy, attractive city spread before 
them. 

Between the neat stone and wooden buildings 
stretched wide, straight streets shaded by rows of 
great trees ; here and there a church tower or some 
large edifice rose far above its lesser fellows ; back 
among the hills country estates and suburban resi- 
dences gleamed among the verdure and in the fore- 
ground the waterfront teemed with busy, noisy life. 

In the harbor scores of sailing vessels and steam- 
ers rested at their moorings and back and forth 
between these and the docks countless lighters, tugs 
and launches passed and repassed, carrying passen- 
gers and cargoes to and from the ships whose 
draught prevented them from mooring at the 
wharves. 


112 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


‘ 4 Isn’t it a busy place,” exclaimed Paul. “Next 
to Havana it’s the most bustling, modern-looking 
city we’ve seen in the West Indies.” 

“One of the busiest cities in the Antilles,” re- 
marked Mr. Rogers. “When I was here many years 
ago the city was built in a ramshackle, flimsy man- 
ner with small wooden houses and stores. A disas- 
trous fire afterwards swept the town and rendered 
thousands of people homeless. It proved a great 
blessing, however, for the city was rebuilt of stone 
and concrete, and the rough, narrow lanes were 
transformed to the broad streets and avenues of 
to-day. ’ ’ 

The party lost no time in going ashore and seeing 
the sights of the town. Marine Square, a fine ave- 
nue one hundred feet in width and extending from 
side to side of the town, excited the boys’ admira- 
tion, but they found Brunswick Square even more 
attractive. Here, surrounded by great trees, was a 
splendid bronze fountain which Mr. Rogers told the 
boys was the gift of a former resident named Turn- 
bull. As they wandered from place to place the boys 
found that the city was well provided with similar 
open “breathing spaces” with fountains or statues, 
while trees and ornamental shrubs abounded. The 
stores were large and well stocked ; numerous hotels, 
restaurants and clubs were in evidence ; there was a 
large public library and the party spent some time 



Suburban residences gleamed amid the verdure. 



Wooded islets separated by narrow channels. 






































































































































- 





































































































THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 


113 


examining the fine collections of island fauna and 
flora in the Victoria Museum. The beautiful gov- 
ernment buildings on Brunswick Square also at- 
tracted the visitors and then, as the air was becom- 
ing insufferably hot, Captain Perkins suggested 
looking up Riviere’s relative before taking a tram 
ride into the suburbs. 

They had little difficulty in locating Mr. Pinard, 
who proved to be an elderly, gentlemanly French- 
man who had lived so long in Trinidad that he spoke 
English with scarce an accent. 

“Ah!” he said in reply to Captain Perkins’ 
inquiry, “I am so sorry. My cousin was here, yes. 
But I was unable to help him. We are all so poor 
and business is so dull with the terrible war. And 
now you arrive when it is too late, yes. My cousin, 
he has gone to La Belle France to fight in this war. ’ ’ 

“I reckon there’s not much use of following him 
there,” laughed the captain. “Too bad he didn’t 
hold on a bit afore runnin’ off.” 

The boys were greatly disappointed at the failure 
of their search. 

“It’s a shame, after we came all the way to Trini- 
dad to find him,” exclaimed Harry. “And now,” 
he added, “he may be killed in battle and no one 
will ever get that treasure.” 

The captain, on the other hand, looked upon it 
as a good joke. “ ’Tain’t no use a-fretting, lads,” 


114 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


lie cried jovially. “ Just as like as not the Riviere 
chap wouldn’t a-shared with us, or perhaps he 
didn’t know where the treasure was hidden, after 
all. There’s just as good treasure in the sea as 
ever was found, as ye might say. And as for a-com- 
ing to Trinidad, it’s only just a mite out of our 
way and ye’ll find plenty to see here that’ll interest 
ye.” 

Boarding an electric car, or “tram,” as the na- 
tives called it, the party was soon whirling rapidly 
through the outskirts of the town towards the 
Savanna and other points of interest in the 
suburbs. 

“What a mixture of people there are here,” said 
Paul. “There seems to be every race under the 
sun.” 

‘ ‘ Pretty nearly, ’ ’ replied his father. c ‘ Spaniards, 
Germans, French, English, Portuguese and Italians 
among the Europeans; Indians and mestizos from 
Venezuela; negroes and colored folks; Hindus and 
Brahmins from India ; Armenians, Syrians and 
Turks; Japanese and Chinese, and a goodly number 
of citizens of the United States for good measure.” 

‘ 1 Do they all speak English ! ’ ’ asked Harry. 

“Not by any means,” replied his uncle. “Many 
of the natives converse in Patois; Spanish is quite 
generally spoken by the merchants, as is French 
and English; the coolies usually have a smattering 


THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 115 

of English or some European tongue, besides their 
own dialect, and the Venezuelans, of course, speak 
Spanish. The lingua-Franca of the working people 
on the estates is Patois, however, and you’ll find 
laborers from every corner of the earth conversing 
in that dialect.” 

“I’ve seen lots of coolies,” said Harry, “but not 
so many as I expected. I thought Trinidad was 
full of Hindus.” 

“Ye’ll see a-plenty of ’em at San Fernando and 
other places where they work on the estates,” said 
Captain Perkins. “Seeing as we’re here we might 
as well see all the sights. To-morrow we’ll run 
down to La Brea and the Pitch Lake, that’s not 
pitch at all, but asphalt, and stop at San Fernando 
on the way.” 

The car had now reached the Savanna and the 
party alighted and entered the Queen’s Park Hotel 
for luncheon. Here they had a splendid view of the 
great, level, grassy pasture of some two hundred 
acres surrounded by magnificent trees and encircled 
by a splendid road and the electric tramway. 

“The Savanna is the Trinidadians’ public park, 
race course, cricket ground and ball field combined,” 
said Mr. Rogers. “Later in the afternoon it will 
be gay with visitors ; carriages and automobiles will 
arrive by scores and cricket and golf matches, polo 
and football will hold full sway.” 


116 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


‘ 1 Whew! I’d hate to play a game of football to- 
day,” declared Paul. “It’s just sizzling hot.” 

“It will be cooler towards evening,” said his 
father. “Trinidad, or rather Port of Spain, is one 
of the hottest spots in the West Indies, but it’s not 
After business hours everyone resorts 
to the parks, the Savanna or to their 
homes among the hills to enjoy the 
cool evening breeze.” 

After lunch the visitors strolled 
across to the splendid Public Gar- 
dens and the magnificent Government 
House and its grounds. Although the 
boys had seen the extensive botanic 
gardens in the other islands — in Do- 
minica, St. Vincent and Havana — they were 
amazed at the wonderful extent and beauty of 
the garden at Trinidad. The walks, shaded with 
scores of strange tropical trees, were cool, and the 
air was laden with the scent of rare and gorgeous 
flowers and heavy with the spicy odor of nutmeg, 
cinnamon and cloves. Beautiful butterflies flitted 
here and there; sweet-voiced birds sang from their 
retreats among the foliage, and gorgeous humming 
birds swept like living jewels from bloom to bloom. 

The party spent several hours in the garden, 
watched the athletic natives at their afternoon 
sports on the Savanna, dined at the hotel and re- 


unhealthy. 




The magnificent Government House and grounds. 



They strolled through the public gardens. 










































THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 117 


turned to Port of Spain and the “Cormorant” late 
in the evening. 

The following day the anchor was raised and 
under motor power the yacht started southward 
over the smooth blue waters of the landlocked Gulf 
towards San Fernando and the Pitch Lake. 

“I notice that many of the names of places are 
not English,” remarked Paul. “How is it that an 
English island has so many Spanish names for towns 
and other localities!” 

“Trinidad has an interesting history,” replied 
Mr. Rogers. “It was discovered by Columbus on 
his third voyage to the New World on July 1st, 1498. 
He named it 1 Trinidad/ or ‘ The Trinity/ on account 
of the three-peaked mountain that rises yonder, and 
which is now known as the ‘ Three Sisters. ’ Colum- 
bus entered through the southern boca, which he 
named the ‘Serpent’s Mouth/ sailed along this 
same western coast, through the Gulf of Paria, 
traded with the natives, who were friendly, and 
sailed out through the Dragon’s Mouth, bound for 
Santo Domingo. After the great discoverer, came 
Americo Vespucci, Alonzo de Ojeda, whose tomb 
you saw in San Domingo City, and Juan de la Costa, 
who discovered and named Venezuela. For a num- 
ber of years many of the Spanish explorers stopped 
at Trinidad, among them Pinzon, who discovered 
the Amazon, and Solis, who discovered the Rio de 


118 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


la Plata, but it was nearly thirty years after Co- 
lumbus visited the island before a settlement was 
made. This was at the junction of two rivers, 
about six miles from the sea, where, in 1584, a 
Spaniard named Antonio de Berrio y Oruna, 
founded a town which he named San J ose de Oruna, 
in honor of himself. The town still remains, and is 
known as St. Joseph, although in 1595 it was seized 
and burned by English troops under command of 
Sir Walter Raleigh, who was searching for the fabu- 
lous El Dorado, and desired Trinidad as a head- 
quarters, from which to send expeditions into the 
Orinoco country. For nearly two hundred years 
the Spaniards held the island, during which time 
they had many conflicts with the natives, until the 
aborigines were finally exterminated. The colony, 
however, was very poor, and it is said that at one 
time the governing board or ‘Cabildo,’ composed 
of illustrious grandees, had but a single pair of 
‘small clothes’ between them, and the noble Dons 
were thus compelled to take turns in wearing them 
when obliged to appear at public functions. Late 
in the eighteenth century large numbers of French 
refugees sought shelter on the island after being 
driven out by the massacres and uprisings in Haiti, 
Martinique and Guadeloupe, and with this influx of 
immigrants the island commenced to prosper and 
improve. At the height of the island’s prosperity, 


THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 119 


in 1797, a British fleet arrived, commanded by Ad- 
miral Harvey, and carrying 8,000 men under Sir 
Ralph Abercromby. The Spanish governor sur- 
rendered almost immediately, and ever since Trini- 
dad has been a British colony. Oddly enough, many 
of the old Spanish names are still retained, in other 
cases the French appellations have survived, while 
in still other instances the original names have be- 
come Anglicized. Thus the name 
Trinidad, as well as San Fernando, 

La Brea, Maraccas, etc., are Span- 
ish; the French words ‘Savanne,’ 

Manicou, Sapajou and the Patois 
tongue are in daily use, while Puerto 
de los Hispanoles has become Port of Spain, Boca 
del Serpiente has been changed to Serpent’s Mouth, 
Boca Grande has become the Dragon’s Mouth, an- 
cient San Jose is now known only as St. Joseph and 
the tri-pinnacled mountain from which the island 
derived its name is called the Three Sisters.” 

“Well, that’s all mighty interesting,” declared 
Captain Perkins, “but here we’re approaching San 
Fernando and we’ll step ashore and see a bit of 
India without the trouble of going to Asia.” 

The yacht was soon at anchor, the launch lowered 
and the party prepared to go ashore. 

“Reckon we’d better bring Rami along,” re- 
marked the captain. “It’ll do him good to have 



IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


120 

an hour or two among his own folks, and he’ll he 
mighty useful as an interpreter.” 

Rami was greatly pleased at the idea of going 
ashore, and his eyes sparkled with joy when he 
stepped from the launch into a crowd of Hindu men, 
women and children. 

The boys found the town of little interest, save 
for the coolies, for the district is devoted exclu- 
sively to sugar cane plantations, which stretch away 
on every hand. It was to labor on these great es- 
tates that the coolies were first brought to the 
island between 1846 and 1854, and while many of 
them are still indentured field hands and little bet- 
ter than slaves, yet as fast as their terms expire 
they settle down to an independent life as planters, 
merchants or free laborers. 

The boys felt as if they had stepped into an East 
Indian town as they wandered through the village, 
for Hindus and Brahmins were everywhere, and 
many types which the boys had never before seen 
were in evidence. There were Hindu shops filled 
with strange foods and wares of the Orient; coolie 
silversmiths worked, squatting before their rude 
stone anvils, on which they hammered silver coins 
into rings, bracelets and ornaments ; solemn Brahmin 
priests stalked through the lanes and streets ; Hindu 
mendicants in rags begged alms of the strangers; 
coolie belles in filmy, flowing lace and loaded with 


THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 121 


tinkling anklets, arm bands, rings and chains, tripped 
smilingly along the dusty thoroughfares, and naked, 
spindle-legged children laughed, cried, played and 
squabbled here, there and everywhere. 

Rami was as great a curiosity to the San Fer- 
nando Hindus as they were to the 
boys, and they crowded about him, 
keeping up a constant chatter of 
Hindustani. He proved a great help 
to the visitors, however, for the boys 
were anxious to secure a collection 
of jewelry and native curios as sou- 
venirs, and with Rami’s help they 
obtained a splendid assortment at 
prices which seemed absolutely ridic- 
ulous. 

As they retraced their way to the dock they were 
escorted by quite a cavalcade of well-to-do coolies, 
many of whom bore baskets of fruit, bundles of cane, 
live fowls, eggs and other delicacies, which they be- 
stowed upon Rami and his employer as parting 
gifts. 

As Tom remarked, the launch looked like “a 
bloomin’ bumboat,” and there was scarce space 
for the passengers to seat themselves when every- 
thing had been placed aboard the little craft. 

An hour and a half after leaving San Fernando 
the yacht came to anchor at La Brea, or Brighton, 



IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


122 

the port from which the asphalt is shipped from 
the famous Pitch Lake. 

Several vessels were lying at the jetty, and from 
an endless chain of buckets the crude asphalt was 
being ceaselessly tumbled down a chute into the 
holds of the waiting ships. 

The rattle and crash of the asphalt, the creak and 
roar of windlasses, cables and trucks, and the or- 
ders and shouts of the laborers created an uproar 
that was well nigh deafening and reminded the boys 
of the din of lower Pearl Street when an elevated 
train is passing overhead. The sun beat down with 
equatorial fervor, the air was still and humid, and 
before the party had reached the end of the 
pier they felt as if they had been in a Turkish 
bath. 

“That bucket cableway is a great improvement 
over the old method of loading,” remarked Mr. 
Rogers. “When I visited the lake, years ago, the 
asphalt was hauled to the shore in carts, loaded into 
small boats and lightered out to the vessels at 
anchor . 9 9 

The boys had expected to see a real lake of as- 
phalt and were rather surprised when they arrived 
at the edge of a broad plain, with pools of muddy 
water, coarse weeds and grass, clumps of trees and 
palms upon its uneven, dull brown surface, and 
were told that this was the Pitch Lake. 


THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 123 

“Why, it’s not a lake at all,” exclaimed Paul. 
i ‘ It looks like a plain of sun-dried mud. ’ ’ 

“The asphalt or pitch is mostly semi-solid,” re- 
marked his father. “But here and there liquid as- 
phalt oozes up to the surface.” 

The party walked forward across the strange 
place and approached a crowd of 
negroes busily digging the asphalt 
and loading it into trucks. 

“These raised ridges show where 
the asphalt is rising,” said Mr. 

Kogers. “They are called ‘mou- 
tonees’ or sheep-backs.” He showed 
the boys the little hillocks separated by water-filled 
gullies from one to five feet in depth and several 
feet wide. 

They were now near the center of the plain, which 
was about 100 acres in area, and the boys noticed 
that as they walked along their feet left impressions 
upon the surface, which was quite soft. 

“It’s just like an asphalt pavement on a hot 
day,” said Harry. 

A strong, rather unpleasant odor of sulphur was 
noticeable and in several spots the boys saw pools 
of liquid asphalt, which they examined curiously. 

“Don’t these men find the liquid pitch when they 
dig down?” asked Paul as the party stood watching 
the negroes digging out the asphalt. 



IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


124 

“No,” replied Mr. Rogers. “But wherever it is 
dug out new asphalt rapidly fills the holes, so that 
the supply is practically inexhaustible, while the 
amount in sight has been estimated at 4,500,000 tons.” 

“I shouldn’t think even that amount would ever 
be used up,” said Harry. 

“It wouldn’t last long if the entire world de- 
pended upon Trinidad for its supply of asphalt,” 
said Mr. Rogers. “But as vast quantities come 
from Sicily, and there are very large deposits in 
Venezuela, there is little danger of exhausting the 
Trinidad supply, even if new material was not con- 
stantly forming to replace what is taken out. ’ ’ 

“How long have people been digging this as- 
phalt?” asked Harry. 

“Sir Walter Raleigh is said to have first discov- 
ered its value,” replied Mr. Rogers. “In 1595, at 
the time he attacked San Jose, he used the asphalt 
to calk the seams of his vessels, and reported that 
there was enough here to ‘pitch the vessels of the 
whole world for centuries.’ It was not until 1888, 
however, that the Pitch Lake became a commercial 
proposition. At that date the Trinidad government 
leased the deposit to an American company; but it 
has since been transferred to a London firm.” 

“Isn’t it strange that palms, trees and pineapples 
should grow on such a desolate spot?” remarked 
Paul as the party started back towards the shore. 


THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 125 


“There is a great deal of soil mixed with the 
asphalt,’ ’ said Mr. Eogers, “and this is very rich, 
and wherever there is sufficient for a plant to take 
root, vegetation thrives and grows 
luxuriantly. ’ ’ 

“There’s kind of a queer story 
’bout this ’ere lake,” remarked Cap- 
tain Perkins; “sort of legend, ye 
might say.” 

“Do tell us about it,” said Paul. 

“Those old legends are always inter- 
esting. ’ ’ 

“Well, ’tain’t much of a story,” said the captain. 
“And I dunno how true ’tis. They say that years 
agone there wasn ’t a lake of asphalt here at all, and 
that the Injuns had a village on the spot. ’Twas a 
fine place to live and was overgrown with pine- 
apples. The pools were full of fish and pigeons 
and ducks and other birds were all about. The In- 
juns believe the spirits of their dead folks go into 
humming birds, hut for some reason or other these 
chaps started in to kill the humming birds. The 
Great Spirit punished ’em for this by sinking the 
whole village one night, and ever since there’s been 
this ’ere Pitch Lake above the spot where they were 
swallowed up. ’ ’ 

“That story may have some foundation in fact,” 
remarked Mr. Rogers. “It is not improbable that 



126 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


an earthquake or some similar subterranean force 
caused a fissure in the ground to open and that 
through this opening the asphalt was forced up and 
spread oyer the area it now covers.’ ’ 

“Like as not,” agreed the captain. “Something 
like the Mud Volcanoes up to Prince’s Town.” 

“What are the ‘Mud Volcanoes’?” asked Paul. 

“It’s a spot over yonder a few miles,” replied 
the captain. “Used to he a round, flat spot of mud 
there, hut ’long in 1887 there was a sort of eruption 
and a heap of little mounds of mud sprung up with 
muddy water a-pouring from ’em. They smells 
most as much as this ’ere Pitch Lake. The niggers 
call it the ‘Devil’s Woody ard,’ ’count of the dead 
trees and branches scattered about. They’re mortal 
’fraid to go there after dark.” 

“Will we go to see that?” asked Harry. 

“I reckon not,” replied the captain. “It’s too 
all fired hot down on this part of the island. I’m 
pretty nigh boiled alive now, and I always thought 
I was a sort of human salamander. Lor ’, but ’twill 
feel good to get out in the breeze again. ’ ’ 

The party had now reached the end of the jetty 
and were soon aboard the yacht and headed back 
towards Port of Spain. 

The next day the captain suggested a trip to the 
Caura Waterfall, and to save time the railway train 
was taken to St. Joseph. The boys found this town 



Beautiful rivers with verdured banks. 



From the car windows they watched the scenery through which 

they passed. 






























V 




























































































% 






THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 127 


quite interesting, after having heard its history, 
and Mr. Rogers pointed out the old residence on 
the Yalsayn estate, which he said contained many 
relics and documents of Spanish days, including the 
treaty signed by Governor Chacon and Lord Aber- 
cromby. 

From St. Joseph the party took the line east- 
ward towards Arima, and from the car windows 
watched with interest the marvelously beautiful 
scenery through which they passed. Deep ra- 
vines, lofty hills, rich tropical verdure and broad 
plains covered with bananas, cacao, pineapples and 
fruit orchards were passed in rapid succession. 
The train rumbled over bridges and trestles, above 
beautiful rivers with verdured banks, whirled 
around the edges of precipitous gullies, roared 
through tunnels and gave the boys an excellent idea 
of the character of the interior of Trinidad. At the 
El Dorado estate horses were procured and the 
party rode for some seven miles through the most 
attractive of tropical scenery. Then dismounting, 
they plodded onward for a mile or more through 
the great virgin forest, which reminded the boys of 
the “high woods’ ’ of Dominica and St. Kitts. 

Presently the roar of falling water reached them 
and a few moments later they came suddenly in view 
of the cataract. From the midst of rich verdure that 
crowned a cliff the water dropped in a single, splen- 


128 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


did cascade for three hundred feet into a great stone 
basin, surrounded by wonderfully colored flowers, 
magnificent ferns, strange orchids and waving 
palms. The air was cool with flying spray and a 
gentle breeze leaves, flowers and vegetation 
gleamed with silvery sheen from the perpetual 
shower and a fragment of 
rainbow shimmered across 
the surface of the cascade as 
a ray of sunlight glinted 
through a rift among the tree 
tops. It was a beautiful and 
wonderful sight, and the boys 
vowed it the finest thing they 
had seen in all the islands. 

“The Maraccas Fall is a 
little higher, ” said Mr. 
Rogers in reply to a question 
from Harry. “But it can only be seen at its best 
during the rainy season. Another famous water- 
fall in Trinidad is the Blue Basin Fall. Unlike this 
cataract and that of Maraccas, in which the water 
is clear as crystal, the water of the Blue Basin is 
of the clearest and most beautiful cerulean blue, 
much like the color of the sea along the shores of 
St. Croix and other white sea beaches in the Carib- 
bean. ’ ’ 

The party lingered by the cataract for several 



THE TIP END OF A CONTINENT 129 


hours, ate a picnic luncheon in the shade of the 
woods beyond the reach of the spray and, retrac- 
ing their steps, reached Port of Spain at sundown. 

‘ 1 It’s a wonderfully beautiful island/ ’ said Paul. 
“I’d like to go all over it.” 

“You’d need a heap of time for that,” said the 
captain. “It’s a whopping big place; pretty nigh 
a hundred miles long and fifty wide; most as big 
as Porto Rico. But ye’ve seen the best of it, and 
to-morrow morning we’ll up anchor and head for 
the Pearl Islands.” 

‘ 1 The Pearl Islands ! ’ ’ exclaimed Harry. 1 4 Where 
are they?” 

The captain chuckled. “They’re not down on 
the maps as such,” he replied. “Margarita’s the 
proper name for ’em, but 1 Pearl Islands’ is a sight 
prettier and more fitting, seeing as how Margarita 
means pearl and pearling used to be the chief busi- 
ness.” 

“Will we see any pearl divers?” asked Paul. 

“Shouldn’t be a mite surprised,” replied the cap- 
tain. “But it’s an interesting spot and one of those 
wrecks is close alongside of ’em. We’ll stop over 
at Carupano for the night and give you lads a 
chance to step ashore on the continent.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


PEARLS AND PIRATES 

At daylight the next morning the “ Cormorant” 
passed out through the Dragon’s Month and the 
boys took a farewell look at Trinidad and devoted 
their attention to the Venezuelan shores they were 
passing. 

All through the day they sailed along the Paria 
Peninsula and late in the evening cast anchor 
off the Port of Carupano. It was the first South 
American town the boys had ever seen, and they 
lost no time in going ashore. They found the town 
contained little of interest, but was quite different 
from the island ports they had seen. The eleven 
thousand inhabitants were mainly Venezuelans of 
mixed blood, but universally courteous to the 
strangers. A band was playing in the little plaza 
and the party spent some time seated under the 
trees in the soft evening breeze listening to the 
dreamy Spanish music and watching the inhabitants 
on their nightly promenade or “pasear” about the 
plaza. On their return to the dock they stopped to 
glance into a brightly lighted dance hall, where 
130 


PEARLS AND PIRATES 


131 


swarthy men and dark-eyed senoritas in mantillas 
and rebozos were moving slowly about to the strains 
of a guitar and castanets. 

“Why, these people have learned the tango and 
other modern dances already!” 

“They’re not so much behind the 
times down here after all.” 

Captain Perkins roared with 
laughter. “Lor’ bless you!” he 
cried. ‘ ‘ These folks knew how to 
tango, as ye call it, afore old 
Uncle Sam wore long breeches. 

‘ Modern dances,’ ye say. Well, 
well ! That’s good. Modern dances ! 

Why, lad, they’ve been a-dancing 
these steps down here in South 
America for ’bout three hundred 
years. ’ ’ 

“Well, they dance it much nicer than the Ameri- 
cans,” declared Harry. 

“They certainly do,” agreed his uncle. “The 
Spanish-Americans are natural musicians and 
dancers, and no Northerner ever acquires the lan- 
guid grace or passionate fervor, which is a birth- 
right of these people. They seem never to tire of 
their dances, and if you dropped in here at daylight 
to-morrow you’d find these same couples still danc- 
ing about.” 


exclaimed Paul. 



132 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Before noon the next day the yacht was within 
plain sight of Margarita and the boys expressed 
surprise at the size and height of the island. 

“It’s wonderful how little we ever learn about 
these places at home,” said Paul. “I never even 
heard of Margarita until Captain Frank told us of 
it, and yet it looks like a very large place.” 

“It’s pretty nigh fifty miles long and half as 
wide,” said the captain. 

“How high are those mountains?” asked Harry. 
“They look enormous.” 

‘ ‘ Four thousand feet, ’ ’ replied the captain. ‘ 1 Did 
ye ever learn the difference a-’twixt a island and a 
continent at school?” 

“Why, not exactly,” replied Harry. “I believe 
our teacher said that if a body of land contained two 
distinct mountain ranges it was a continent, or 
something to that effect.” 

“That’s an old saying,” chuckled the captain. 
“But ’cording to that rule, Margarita’s a continent, 
for there’s two distinct mountain ranges on this 
island, as ye’ll see.” 

“I can’t see but one range,” declared Harry. 
“But if you say there are two, I’ll believe you.” 

“Second one’s jest back of the one ye see from 
here,” said the captain. “Ye can’t see it from this 
side. Fact is, the island’s pretty nigh cut in two by 
a whopping big lagoon. The two sides are just held 


PEARLS AND PIRATES 


133 


together by a narrow neck of land ’bout a hundred 
and fifty feet wide and not more’n ten feet above 
the sea. Always seemed to me a good bit of storm 
might break through and make Margarita into two 
separate islands.” 

“Are there any towns here?” asked Paul. 

‘ ‘ Three or four, ’ ’ replied the captain. 1 1 The capi- 
tal and largest town’s called ‘Asuncion,’ and 
the principal port is Pampatar, on the sou ’east 
coast. ’ ’ 

“Do all the people make a living from pearls?” 
asked Harry. 

“Lor’, no,” laughed the captain. “There’s close 
on to 20,000 folks live here and the pearl fishing’s 
pretty nigh played out. A heap of the people make 
fishing their business, and the dried fish is shipped 
ashore to La Guaira an’ other Venezuelan towns. 
A lot more of ’em make a living weaving hammocks 
that have the name of being the finest in the world. 
Others make hats, others tiles for roofs and the 
wimmen folks make mighty fine embroid’ry and 
lace. They’re not such a bad lot, by any means, 
even if their ancestors were mostly smugglers and 
pirates.” 

“I do believe I read something about this place 
in a story,” exclaimed Paul. “I hadn’t thought of 
it before, but I remember now. It was a story about 
a shipwreck and a search for a missing heiress and 


134 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


some Americans visited this island and found it 
settled by fierce outlaws and smugglers.” 

The captain laughed heartily. “Well, whoever 
wrote that was away off his course,” he cried. 
“They’re as peaceful a lot of folk as ye’ll meet. 
I dunno but they may smuggle a bit now and again, 
’cause it’s a-putting temptation in their way to have 
the free Dutch islands so handy. It used to be a 
great haunt for pirates, to be sure, but they’re law- 
abiding enough now.” 

The yacht was now close to the island and pres- 
ently came to anchor before the little town nestling 
at the foot of the towering mountains. 

The boys found Margarita quaint, old-fashioned 
and very foreign, while they at once became the cen- 
ter of interest to crowds of natives, who seldom saw 
visitors from the North. Everyone gabbled and 
chattered in colloquial Spanish, and Mr. Rogers and 
the boys were compelled to call upon Captain Perkins 
to act as interpreter. They bought numerous sam- 
ples of native handiwork, including several beautiful 
hammocks, visited the ruins of ancient Spanish forts 
and then, hearing of a spot where pearl fishing was 
carried on, embarked in the launch and ran along 
the coast to the fishing village. 

Here they found immense heaps of pearl-oyster 
shells rotting on the beach and the stench was un- 
endurable, save when to windward of the piles. The 




The little town nestling at the foot of the mountains, 






































































































, 






PEARLS AND PIRATES 


135 


overseer was a Frenchman, who spoke excellent 
English, and he gladly exhibited his accumulation 
of pearls, explained the process of fishing and made 
the hoys a present of some shells containing un- 
marketable pearls attached to the beautiful lus- 
trous “nacre” within the 
oysters. 

He explained that the 
best of the beds had been 
fished out and destroyed 
long ago, and that nowa- 
days the pearling rights 
were leased out and the 
beds of young shells were 
protected. He also told 
the boys that the pearl 
beds were first discovered by Columbus, that vast 
treasures in pearls were sent to Spain from Mar- 
garita by the colonists in early days, and that among 
the crown jewels of Castile and Leon were many 
beautiful pearls from the island. 

“But now,” he added, “few of size or worth do 
we find, M’sieus; more profitable even is the shell 
than the pearls, and yet the fishery yields nearly 
$1,000,000 a year.” 

“Do your divers ever find wrecks when after 
pearls f” asked Harry. 

The manager smiled. “That I cannot say,” he 



136 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


replied. “If they found a wreck with anything of 
value they would say nothing. Once two of them 
suddenly left the work, went to the mainland and 
lived like rich men, and everyone said they made 
their wealth by finding a sunken treasure ship, but 
I cannot say; but now divers go not for the pearls. 
Those we take we catch with ‘arrastras,’ what you 
call ‘ drags.’ ” 

“Ever hear of a wreck to the nor’east, along by 
the Frayles Reefs?” asked Captain Perkins. 

The Frenchman crossed himself hurriedly. “Mon 
Dieu, yes,” he exclaimed. “The wreck of the ‘Good 
Venture.’ It is there, M’sieu, for with my own eyes 
I have seen it, a great ship of the olden time. But 
no one dares dive to that. It is as safe as if in the 
middle of the great ocean. ’ ’ 

“Why don’t they dare?” asked Paul. “Is the 
water too deep?” 

“Deep, no,” replied the Frenchman. “Perhaps 
fifty feet — not more; but the Devil looks after his 
own, M’sieu, and never has one escaped who has 
sought to obtain the treasure of the ‘Good Venture.’ 
The story is this, M’sieus. Of its truth I cannot 
tell, for it happened many centuries ago, but all 
the world here swears it is so. The ‘Good Venture’ 
was a British ship — a pirate, and her captain most 
bloody and merciless. From sacking the towns of 
the main and seizing ships, he was sailing, laden deep 


PEARLS AND PIRATES 


137 


with treasure, for Hispaniola. When off Margarita 
he sighted the 4 Ave Maria,’ a Spanish ship, and gave 
chase. The ‘ Ave Maria’ was coming from Spain and 
carried no treasure and few guns ; but aboard were 
many Holy Sisters and Padres, hound for the mis- 
sions of the new world. Finding that they were 
hard pressed, the Spanish captain sought to elude 
his pursuer by running through the narrow channel 
between the reefs and called upon a Good Father 
to pray for the success of the dangerous ruse. The 
priest stood upon the high poop-deck and lifted up 
a crucifix, and as he did so the English pirate fired 
at the gleam of gold upon the cross. His shot struck 
true and the Padre fell dead upon the deck with the 
crucifix broken to a thousand pieces by the hall. 
But swift was the vengeance visited upon the pirate 
ship, for as she veered to fire the shot she struck 
full upon the jagged reef and sank with all her 
bloody crew, while in safety the ‘Ave Maria’ slipped 
between the rocks and keys out upon the open sea 
beyond.” 

“That’s a mighty fine story,” declared the cap- 
tain, “and I don’t doubt it’s Gospel true. Reckon 
the old Britisher deserved all he got, too. But I 
don’t see what that’s got to do with a-gettin’ of the 
treasure by Christian folks to-day.” 

“The people say,” continued the Frenchman, 
“that the Bon Dieu has willed that the wreck re- 


138 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


main forever as a warning to others and that about 
it He has placed fierce currents and eddies which 
no man may overcome. Upon the surface of the 
sea it is calm, and one may look upon the wreck 
beneath. I myself know that even an anchor 
of iron, if dropped toward the wreck, will be 
whirled about and drawn away as if by unseen 
hands. ’ ’ 

“Well, I reckon that might be so, too,” said the 
captain, thoughtfully. “Just the same there’s no 
harm in looking at that wreck, and I guess we might 
as well see it. It’s mighty interesting, after hear- 
ing its history.” 

All the way back to the “Cormorant” the boys 
could talk of nothing else but the strange and thrill- 
ing story related by the Frenchman. 

“Do you suppose it’s just superstition, or is it 
possible there may be such currents as he de- 
scribes?” asked Mr. Rogers. 

“I expect it’s a little of both,” answered the cap- 
tain; “I’ve seen spots where there’s such currents, 
but I’m a bit surprised the old wreck’s held to- 
gether if it runs like that here. We’ll find out when 
we sight it, and if there ain’t any currents that are 
risky I’ll have a shy at fetching up that treasure 
myself. Whether we get it or not, it proves one 
thing ” 

“What’s that?” asked both boys. 


PEARLS AND PIRATES 


139 


“That the old chart of mine’s the genuine arti- 
cle/ ’ replied the captain. “It’s the first wreck 
marked on the map that we’re a hunting for, and 
it’s there right and proper, just as marked.” 

It was too late to think of attempting to locate 
the wreck that afternoon and the boys spent the 
rest of the day exploring the neighboring portions 
of the island and learning what they could of its 
resources. They found that the climate, though 
warm, was healthy ; that the land was dry, arid, and 
unproductive; that springs of water were scarce; 
that but three small rivers were on the island ; and 
that undeveloped veins of various minerals existed 
in many places. They finished the day with a swim 
in a secluded sandy cove, and early the next morn- 
ing set sail for the northern end of the island. 

As they neared the spot where the wreck was indi- 
cated on the chart, Captain Perkins anchored the 
“Cormorant” in the lee of a little islet and lowered 
the launch. Then, proceeding slowly along, every- 
one kept a sharp lookout through the clear, trans- 
parent water for signs of a wreck. 

Masses of brilliantly colored coral; great, wav- 
ing, purple and yellow sea-fans; immense sea-rods 
and other strange marine growths covered the rocky 
bottom as with a marvelous submarine forest. Here 
and there great conch shells crawled slowly about, 
brilliantly tinted fish of strange forms flitted among 


140 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


the waving marine plants, and corals and immense 
sea-urchins, great red-crabs and bright hued star- 
fish, lurked amid the crevices of the reefs. It was 
all wonderfully fascinating to the boys, and Harry 
declared that, even if they didn’t find the wrecked 
pirate ship, they would be well rewarded for their 
trip by this view of the ocean’s bed. 

Back and forth they passed, round and round they 
circled ; but no wreck was seen, and they had about 
given up when Paul noticed an unusually large 
mass, seemingly of coral of peculiar form. 

“What a regular miniature mountain of coral 
that is,” he exclaimed, pointing through the water 
to the spot. 

The captain glanced in the direction Paul indi- 
cated: “Lor’ bless you,” he cried; “yonder’s the 
wreck.” 

A moment later the launch was above it, and now 
the boys could see that what had at first appeared 
merely a confused, isolated mass of coral was in 
reality the sunken hull of a good-sized vessel. 

The high poop, bluff bows, and protruding ribs 
and timbers could all be distinguished; but so cov- 
ered with a growth of corals, sea-weeds and marine 
formations as to be almost unrecognizable as wood. 
The deck had long since fallen in and only a great, 
yawning, black cavern marked the interior of what 
had once been a staunch ship. 


PEARLS AND PIRATES 


141 


“Do you suppose that’s really the ‘Good Ven- 
ture’ f” asked Harry. 

“Not a speck of doubt of it,” cried the captain. 
“Leastwise it’s just where she ought to he, and 
she’s certainly old enough to ’a’ been a real pirate. 
We’ll soon see if old Frenchy was ’a’ telling the 
truth about those currents or just a yarning.” 

As he spoke he rapidly uncoiled a light line at- 
tached to a heavy lead sinker and dropped it over- 
board. 

Breathlessly the boys watched it descend through 
the clear water; down it dropped — two, three, four 
fathoms ran out, when suddenly a distant shout 
caused everybody to look up with a start and glance 
toward the “Cormorant.” 

They all uttered cries of astonishment and alarm. 
The yacht was drifting rapidly toward a jagged, 
surf-capped reef, while Tom worked frantically at 
the anchor lines and Rami waved his arms and 
shouted wildly from the after deck. 

Instantly the wreck was forgotten. The captain 
dropped the sounding line and, with the motor at 
full speed, headed the launch toward the yacht. 

“Lor’, what all-fired shenannigan ’s broken loose 
now,” cried the captain, as the little craft tore 
through the water. 

“What do you suppose has happened?” exclaimed 
Paul. 


142 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Something must be dragging her along!” cried 
Mr. Rogers. “Perhaps a whale or some other crea- 
ture has fouled her anchor rope.” 

“0 dear, I’m afraid we’ll be too late,” exclaimed 
Harry; “she’s nearly on those rocks already. Why 
don’t they do something!” 

Another moment and the launch was alongside 
and the party scrambled aboard. 

Mr. Rogers seized the tiller, Paul dived below and 
started the big motor, and Captain Perkins and 
Harry rushed forward. 

Tom had cast over the second anchor, but a glance 
showed that the vessel was still moving toward the 
reef, which was now within a dozen feet of the 
“Cormorant’s” stern. 

Hardly had Harry and the captain reached the 
forecastle when the throb of the motor was felt 
through the little ship and, with a shout of “Cut 
them cables,” the captain drew his knife across one 
taut rope, while Harry and Tom strove franti- 
cally to knock out the pin that held the shackle to 
the chain of the other anchor. 

For a moment the yacht hung motionless, then the 
chain slackened and the three slipped the shackle- 
bolt. As the yacht forged ahead the loosened chain 
fell rattling upon the reef alongside and the plank- 
ing grated and bumped against the jagged rock, 
while the combing swells breaking upon the reef 


PEARLS AND PIRATES 


143 


dashed back upon the deck. In a minute they were 
safe, the reef was astern and the frightened, ex- 
cited men and boys took a long breath. 

“Lor’, that was a close shave/ ’ cried the cap- 
tain ; ‘ ‘ what run afoul o ’ ye, Tom ? ’ ’ 

“Blow me if I knows, sir,” replied the sailor. 
“I wuz a settin’ ’ere as easy as ye please, a chinnin’ 
with the bloomin’ Hindu an’ a-watchin’ o’ ye a 
squintin’ arter ther wrack, when all to oncet Rami 
jumps up an lets out a bloomin’ yell. I looks about 
— a-thinkin’ ’e ’ad a-seen a bloomin’ ghost or suttin’ 
— an’ I sees as we’re a-driftin’ starn down on yon 
reef. Blow me, thinks I, the bloomin’ mud-hook’s 
a-draggin’, an’ I runs forrard and gives ’er more 
chain. But, Lor’, ’stead of fotchin’ up, the bloody 
ol’ hooker’s jest a-gettin under way an’ a-backin’ 
to the reef like as if her bally kicker was a pullin’ 
of her on reverse. Then I shoves over the kedge — 
a-thinkin’ as ’ow mebbe t’other hook’s a-foul an’ 
then you comes along and ’ere we be.” 

The captain scratched his head, looked thought- 
ful for a moment and remarked : “I ain ’t what ye ’d 
rightly call a superstitious chap, but I dunno. 
There’s a heap of queer things in this world, and I 
reckon I’ll let other folks try for that ‘Good Ven- 
ture’ wreck’s far as I’m concerned. Perhaps that 
French chap’s yarn’s not all imagination after all.” 

“Beggin’ your pardon, sir,” said Tom, as he 


1U 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


hitched up his trousers and cast a glance toward the 
reef, now far astern, 4 4 hit’s too bloomin’ uncanny 
to suit me. ’Tain’t nat’ral fer no ship to be a- 
draggin’ two anchors along o’ four knots on a ca’m 
day. There’s somethin’ bloomin’ queer about it, if 
ye arsk me.” 

4 4 Don’t you suppose it’s some powerful tide-rip 
or current that sets in between the reefs at certain 
times ! ’ ’ inquired Mr. Rogers. 4 4 1 know in the north 
there are such things and that even large vessels 
are dragged by tides below the surface.” 

4 4 Like as not,” replied the captain. 4 4 Just the 
same, if the current ’s strong enough to hike the old 
4 Cormorant’ along like that there’s no use a-trying 
to do diving alongside that wreck. I expect it’s all 
natural enough; but I’m not so keen on treasure- 
hunting as to go down where there’s any such sort 
of tide-rips. No, siree, we’d a been in a pretty mess 
if the old ‘Cormorant’ had a-landed on those 
Frayles reefs.” 

4 4 What does Frayles mean!” asked Paul; 4 4 it’s a 
funny name.” 

The captain banged his fist on the cabin roof. 
4 4 Lor ’ bless ye, ’ ’ he cried. 4 4 The old Frenchy ’s yarn 
was true, I’ll wager. ‘Frayles’ means ‘priests.’ 
I’ll bet ye the reefs were named after the fathers 
on that there 4 Ave Maria’ ’count of their being 
saved by ’em. I hadn’t thought of it afore.” 


CHAPTER IX 


A STRANGE WAY OF HUNTING 

There was no reason for stopping longer at Mar- 
garita and the 1 1 Cormorant ’ ’ was headed southward 
towards the shore of the mainland some twenty 
miles away. 

Passing the island of Coche, with its tiny fishing 
villages, the yacht crossed the strait and rounding a 
cape came in view of a good-sized town. 

‘ ‘ That ’s Cumana,” said Captain Perkins in reply 
to Harry ’s question. “I didn’t count on stopping in 
there; but I’ve got to have a squint at the bilges 
where we bumped along the reef and Cumana ’s a 
sight better place than La Guaira for that.” 

‘ ‘ Is it an interesting place ? ’ ’ asked Paul. 

“It’s the oldest city on the American continents,” 
replied the captain. “ Founded in 1520 by Gonzalez 
Ocampo ; forty-five years afore St. Augustine, Flor- 
ida, and eighty-seven years afore old Cap hi Smith 
met up with Pocahontas.” 

“Was it ever attacked by pirates?” inquired 
Harry. 

“I dunno as ’twas,” replied the captain. “But 
145 


146 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


’twas wiped out by tbe Injuns soon after ’twas set- 
tled. Ye see tbe Spaniards used to run across from 
San Domingo and Porto Rico and killed off the na- 
tives who fought, and carried the rest away as 
slaves. When a bunch of folks settled over here at 
Cumana the natives just had a good chance to get 
even and murdered the whole crowd. If it hadn’t 
been for old Las Casas — the priest chap who started 
the university in San Domingo City — there wouldn’t 
’a’ been any Cumana, I reckon. Las Casas started 
the colony over again and proved such a good friend 
to the Injuns that the place grew and prospered 
and as far as I know everyone lived happy ever 
arterwards — as the story-books say. But here we 
are at the port, lads, and ye can see for yourselves 
what there is to be seen.” 

The boys found that Cumana was not built di- 
rectly upon the sea-coast but beside the Manzanares 
River nearly a mile from the shore with a tramway 
and excellent roads connecting it with the port. 
The city was very ancient and picturesque, with 
about ten thousand inhabitants, but it appeared to 
be very busy and prosperous and a number of ves- 
sels were in the harbor. The captain wished to 
attend to the examination of the “Cormorant’s” 
hull at once and the boys strolled about the town 
in company with Mr. Rogers. 

In one of the patios they caught sight of a great, 


A STRANGE WAY OF HUNTING 


147 


red flamingo stalking about on its spindly legs, 
and they stopped to watch the strange bird. The 
boys were greatly interested and tried to ask ques- 
tions of the bird’s owner who, by gestures, invited 
them to enter the courtyard for a closer view of 
his pet. Unfortunately he spoke only Spanish and 
to the boys’ queries merely shrugged his shoulders 
and replied, “No entiendo Ingles Se- 
noresN Then he called to someone 
within the building and in answer to his 
summons a negro boy appeared. The 
Venezuelan spoke rapidly to the darky 
and the latter, turning to the visitors, 
remarked : 

“He says as how I to make talk fo’ he, sahs.” 

“Why, do you speak English?” cried Harry. 

“Ah surely does, sah,” replied the darky with 
a grin. “I’s f’um Trinidad, sahs, an’ a British 
subject.” 

‘ ‘ That ’s fine, ’ ’ declared Mr. Rogers. “ Now we ’ve 
an interpreter we’ll get along famously.” 

With the boy’s help Paul and Harry learned that 
the flamingo had been captured in the neighboring 
Gulf of Cariaco, where many kinds of rare and 
strange waterfowl were very abundant. 

In reply to a question the boys were informed that 
vast numbers of herons, ibis, egrets and other birds 
were annually caught for their plumes, while still 



148 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


more were captured and sold to zoological gardens 
and menageries. 

4 4 How do they catch the birds ? ’ ’ asked Paul. 4 4 1 
thought flamingoes and similar birds were very 
wary and hard to obtain.” 

4 4 Easy for to cotch wif calabash, sah,” replied 
the negro lad. 

4 4 How on earth do they catch the birds with a 
calabash?” asked Harry. 

44 De bush-man he tie plenty calabash in de water,” 
explained the darky, 4 4 an’ leave fo’ a spell where 
de bird flock. When de fowl grow ‘custom’ to 
he an’ doan make ’fraid de bush-man slip cala- 
bash over he head an’ swim quiet-like to de birds. 
When come close ’longside he reach out he han’, 
grab de bird by he laig an’ pull he quick under 
water. ’ ’ 

4 4 That’s the funniest way of catching birds I ever 
heard of,” declared Paul. 44 I’d love to see it done, 
but it’s an awful shame to kill them for their 
feathers.” 

When they returned to the yacht they found the 
captain had completed his examination of the hull, 
and that except for a few torn and loosened cop- 
per plates no injury had been done. The plates 
had been repaired and the yacht was now ready to 
resume the cruise. 

The boys told the captain about the flamingo and 


A STRANGE WAY OF HUNTING 


149 


tlie strange manner in which the birds were cap- 
tured. 

“I reckon if ye’d like to see it done we can manage 
it,” he replied. “The gulf’s a mighty pretty place 
and as long’s we’re so close we might just as well 
take a run up and see the sights. Ye may get a 
chance to shoot a ’gator or go on a hit of a hunt into 
the hush.” 

“Hurrah, that will be fine,” cried Paul. 

“Let’s start right away,” exclaimed Harry. 

As soon as some fresh vegetables and fruits, 
which the captain had ordered, arrived the anchor 
was raised and the “Cormorant” was headed up 
the gulf. 

On either hand the shores were covered with 
the most luxuriant tropical verdure, alternating 
with well-kept gardens and cultivated land, and the 
boys thought it the most beautiful body of water 
they had ever seen. Mile after mile they chugged 
over the calm and tranquil surface and still the 
water stretched ahead. 

“How long is this gulf?” asked Harry. “I don’t 
see any end to it.” 

“About fifty miles,” replied the captain. “And 
’bout seven miles across. We’ll stop at that vil- 
lage yonder and get a guide. I don’t know much 
about the place farther up.” 

Accordingly the yacht was anchored near a little 


150 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


village on the shore and the party boarded the 
dinghey and landed on the beach. 

The captain soon found a young native who agreed 
to show them the haunts of the wildfowl and with 
this half-breed guide they returned to the “Cor- 
morant.” A few miles further on the water became 
shoal and the native advised anchoring the yacht 
and proceeding in the rowboat. Presently they 
rounded a little promontory and the boys cried out 
in wonder as a large flock of flamingoes rose with 
loud croaks and a great flapping of wings from a 
mud bank just beyond. Their scarlet feathers, long 
legs trailing behind, and slender necks gave the 
birds an appearance both strange and beautiful and 
the boys watched with intense interest until the 
last of the great birds had disappeared beyond the 
mangroves that bordered the water. 

A few moments later a magnificent white egret 
flapped from the trees close to the boat and as the 
little craft entered the shadow of the mangrove 
swamp, ibis, boatbills and countless herons flopped 
from their feeding places in the mud and water and 
perched awkwardly upon the low branches. 

“They don’t seem much afraid,” remarked Paul. 
“It’s for all the world like rowing through a zoolog- 
ical park.” 

‘ 4 Goodness ; look at that log ! It ’s moving ! ’ ’ cried 
Harry. 


A STRANGE WAY OF HUNTING 


151 


“Cayman,” half whispered the guide. 

“It’s a crocodile!” exclaimed Mr. Rogers. 

“Careful, lad, and ye’ll get him,” said the cap- 
tain. 

Harry, with gun ready, watched the great reptile, 
which he had mistaken for a log, as the boat was 
silently sculled forward. 

“Now’s the chance. Aim for 
his eye, ” whispered Mr. Rogers. 

At the report of the rifle bed- 
lam seemed let loose as on every 
hand hundreds of egrets, herons 
and other waterfowl rose squawking and screaming 
from their hiding places in the swamp. 

“Ye fetched him!” shouted the captain as the 
crocodile gave a tremendous flip of his tail and 
then lay still. 

A moment later the keel grounded upon the muddy 
bank of the creek and springing from the boat 
the half-breed approached the saurian with cau- 
tion. 

“ Que tiro bueno!” he exclaimed as he stopped and 
examined the little round hole behind the crocodile ’s 
eye. 

“He says it’s a bully good shot,” explained the 
captain. “Yon’s a whopping big ’gator. Reckon 
we’ll leave him here till we come along back. No 
use of lugging his hide into the swamp.” 



152 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


He explained his decision to the native, who 
agreed that it was the best plan, and the boat was 
again paddled forward into the mangroves. 

“Your turn next, Paul,” said Harry, and handed 
the rifle to his cousin. The frightened birds had 
now settled down, hut it was some time before an- 
other crocodile was seen. Paul saw him first where 
he lay basking upon a fallen tree within a few 
yards of the boat, and fired hastily. With a tre- 
mendous splash the reptile slid into the swamp, but 
he was evidently hit, as the commotion in the water 
proved. 

“Reckon ye won’t get that chap,” remarked the 
captain. “ ’Gators are tough beasts and like as not 
he ’ll get over his hurt. ’ ’ 

“I’m sorry I didn’t take more care,” said Paul in 
a disappointed tone. “I’ll bet that fellow was big- 
ger than Harry ’s. ’ ’ 

6 1 No use o ’ fretting, ’ ’ said the captain. ‘ ‘ There ’s 
a plenty more ’gators in the swamp.” 

No more crocodiles were seen, however, and a half 
mile further on the boat shot forth into a broad 
lagoon. As they came in sight of the open space 
the boys looked in perfect amazement at the sight 
which greeted them. Wherever they glanced the 
place fairly teemed with birds. Flocks of tree ducks 
swam upon the surface, great clumsy pelicans moved 
slowly about, long-legged white and blue herons 


A STRANGE WAY OF HUNTING 


153 


stood motionless in the shallow water and a dainty 
jacana ran nimbly across the water-plants close to 
the boat. In the middle of the little lake a gleaming 
scarlet patch indicated a flock of flamingoes and 
along the farther shore a long line of egrets looked 
like a bank of snow against the dark background 
of the trees. 

“Isn’t that a wonderful sight!” exclaimed Harry. 

“I didn’t suppose there were so many water-fowl 
in the world,” said Paul. 

After a short survey of the place the guide paddled 
the boat into the mangroves; and, out of sight of 
the birds, skirted the lake until close to a large flock 
of feeding birds. 

“He says he’ll catch some now,” the captain ex- 
plained after a few sentences with the half-breed. 
“Watch close and ye’ll see how it’s done.” 

“Don’t let him kill any birds,” said Paul. “We 
don’t want to injure a single one. Tell him to 
catch one or two without hurting them and we ’ll let 
them go after we ’ve examined them. ’ ’ 

“All right, lad,” agreed the captain. “I ain’t 
keen on a killin’ the pretty critters myself.” He 
gave some orders in Spanish to the native who 
nodded and grinned as he slipped from the boat into 
the water. In his hand the man held a large half- 
calabash, pierced with several small holes, and, 
plucking a leaf-covered branch from a nearby man- 


154 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


grove he secured it to the calabash. Then stooping 
until his mouth was level with the water he placed 
the calabash, with its screen of leaves, over his head 
and started towards the unsuspecting birds. As 
the little bunch of leaves moved slowly and smoothly 
over the surface of the lake the hoys could scarcely 
believe that beneath it was the wily native. 

“I don’t wonder the birds are fooled,” remarked 
Harry. “I’d never suspect anything if I saw that 
myself. ’ ’ 

“Isn’t he afraid of crocodiles'?” asked Paul. 

“Reckon there ain’t any here,” replied the cap- 
tain. “Birds wouldn’t he so thick 
if there were many ’gators about. 
Water’s too shallow.” 

The calabash was now close to a 
flock of birds and the boys watched in- 
tently. Suddenly a bird opened its wings as if to 
rise, hut the next second disappeared beneath the 
surface. 

“There goes the first one,” chuckled the captain. 

“Why, it didn’t even squawk!” exclaimed Harry. 

Two more birds disappeared and then with a great 
flapping of wings and terrific cries of alarm the 
flock rose and flew off in all directions. From where 
they had been feeding the half-breed rose from the 
water with three struggling birds in his grasp. 

He soon reached the side of the boat and the boys 



A STRANGE WAY OF HUNTING 


155 


examined with interest the specimens he had secured 
in this novel manner. 

One was a dainty white egret, another was a 
curious boatbill, while the third was a lovely rose- 
colored spoonbill. 

“Begular menagerie,’ ’ laughed the captain. 

The birds were soon released and seemed but 
little frightened at their unusual experience, and 
the boat was again headed back towards 
the swamp. 

Two crocodiles were seen, but both 
slipped into the water before the boys had 
a chance to shoot, and the boat finally 
reached Harry’s dead prize and was drawn 
ashore. The native made quick work of skinning 
the huge reptile, but the others found even the few 
minutes they waited almost unendurable because of 
the mosquitoes. 

With the skin of the crocodile in the boat they 
hurried forward followed by clouds of the obnoxious 
insects and were glad indeed when they saw open 
water before them. 

“What’s that white thing over there!” asked 
Paul, pointing to one side of the slowly-flowing 
creek. 

1 ‘ Dunno, ’ ’ said the captain. “ We ’ll have a look. ” 

They were close to the peculiar object before 
they realized what it was. 



156 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


‘ ‘ It’s a dead alligator !” cried Harry. 

“Right ye be!” exclaimed the captain. 

The dead crocodile was floating belly-up, stranded 
on a submerged log. 

“Well, ye got your ’gator after all,” said the 
captain as the half-breed turned the creature over 
and pointed to the fresh bullet hole in the head. 

“Most generally they sink and don’t 
come up. Reckon this chap started 
to swim down stream afore he died 
and tried to crawl out on this ’ere 
log.” 

Paul was immensely pleased to 
obtain a trophy equal to Harry’s 
and the boys were both in high 
spirits over the success of their trip. 

The native was put ashore at his village with 
more money for his day’s work than he would have 
obtained from a score of dead birds, and the party 
boarded the yacht and headed for Cumana. 

“Might as well be making along towards La 
Guaira,” remarked the captain. “The wind’s fair 
and as there’s not much to be seen on this coast 
we’ll shove the yacht along all night. Ye’ll see a 
pretty sight to-morrow morning, lads.” 

Early in the evening they passed Barcelona with 
its twinkling lights, which the captain informed them 



A STRANGE WAY OF HUNTING 


157 


was a busy little town and the terminus of a rail- 
way to the interior. 

4 ‘Rincon’s the port,” he added. “The town it- 
self ’s back from the shore a mile or so alongside 
the river. Over to the east’ard’s Guanta, and be- 
yond ye’d see Santa Fe, if ye sailed in close.” 

“Are there any towns between here and La 
Guaira?” asked Harry. 

‘ ‘ Plenty of ’em, ’ ’ said the captain. ‘ ‘ Mostly small 
places, but all doing a pretty good trade. All much 
of a muchness though and nothing of particular 
interest in ’em.” 

“Wasn’t La Guaira taken by Morgan on one occa- 
sion?” inquired Mr. Rogers. 

“Yes,” replied the captain. “He took La Guaira 
and started in to take Caracas. One of his men 
turned traitor and gave the scheme away and the 
Spaniards beat him off. You’ll not be surprised 
when you see the trail that leads inland from the 
port to the capital. Had a pretty tough job a-taking 
La Guaira for that matter. The old rascal ’d like 
as not failed there if it hadn’t been for a lot of 
priests and nuns he’d captured in sacking Carta- 
gena. He made them carry the scaling ladders and 
shove ’em up against the walls of the town and 
as the folks wouldn’t fire on the nuns the pirates 
got in.” 


158 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Did any other pirates ever take the place !” 
asked Harry. 

“Preston took Caracas seven years after La 
Gnaira was founded — in 1565,” replied the captain. 
“Landed at a spot they call Macuto, down to the 
east ’ard, with 400 men, marched over the mountains, 
and sacked the capital and got safe off without los- 
ing a ship. Later on, along in 1680, Garmont and 
his Frenchies looted La Guaira, and in 1739 the 
Dutch tried their hand. They got well licked and 
the Britishers were driven off in 1739 and 1743. 
After that nothing much happened till 1812 when 
an earthquake came along and knocked the place 
all to bits and pretty nigh wiped out Caracas at 
the same time . 9 ’ 

“It must be a very interesting spot, historically,” 
remarked Mr. Rogers. 

“Will we go to Caracas'?” asked Paul. 

“Ye bet we will,” said the captain with emphasis. 
“Couldn’t think of missing that place. Paris of 
South America they call it.” 

All they had seen and learned of the tropics had 
not prepared the two boys for the magnificent spec- 
tacle which greeted them when they reached the deck 
early the next morning. 

The yacht was sailing slowly on a calm sea of 
deepest azure, silvery gulls winged back and forth 
with querulous cries above the rippling wake, 


A STRANGE WAY OF HUNTING 


159 


bright-hued fishing boats bowed and conrtesied to 
the ocean swell, — their sails flashing in the brilliant 
sunshine, and a gray-hulled ‘ ‘ Red D ’ ’ liner, outward 
bound with the Stars and Stripes flying from her 
taffrail, was passing within a few hundred feet. 

But all the life and beauty of this sea picture 
paled into insignificance and were given scarce a 
glance as the boys turned their eyes towards the 
south. 

From the edge of the breaking surf a stupendous 
mountain rose sheer for 8,000 feet, its face a preci- 
pice of dull red, its forest-crowned top half hidden 
in fleecy clouds and its ridges and ravines wonderful 
with the rich green of tropic foliage and the purple 
of dense shadows. At its base — and dwarfed to 
liliputian size by the tremendous heights above — 
nestled a little town, the red-roofed houses and gaily- 
tinted buildings filling a lovely amphitheater of 
verdured slopes, while in the foreground, behind a 
gray sea-wall, the masts and funnels of many vessels 
were sharply outlined against the waving palms 
beyond. 

“Didn’t I say ye’d see a pretty sight?” cried the 
captain joyously. “Ever see anything to beat it?” 

“It’s marvelous,” declared Mr. Rogers. “I can’t 
imagine another such sight in the entire world.” 

The boys were silently studying the wonderful 
scene through their glasses. 


160 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


4 4 Gracious! There’s a railway track on that 
cliff ! ’ ’ cried Paul. ‘ 4 1 can see a bridge and a train. ’ 9 
“O’ course there is,” laughed the captain. 
“ That's the road to Caracas. The capital's over 
the edge of the mountain there.” 

“How in the world does the 
train ever get over the top?” ex- 
claimed Harry. “It doesn’t seem 
possible that any railway can 
climb that precipice.” 

“You’ll have a chance to see 
when ye go over it, ’ ’ chuckled the 
captain. “It’s some road, I tell 
ye. Caracas is only about six 
miles from the sea in a straight line, but it’s nigh 
twenty-five miles by the railroad over yonder cliff. ’ ’ 
“Caracas must be ’way up in the air if it’s on 
top of that mountain,” said Paul. “Isn’t it rainy 
and windy up there ? ’ ’ 

The captain gave a hearty laugh. “Lor’ bless 
ye,” he cried. “The capital’s not on the cliff; it’s 
in as snug a valley as ye’d wish to see on t’other 
side. ’Bout three thousand feet above the sea and 
finest climate in the world — just like spring all the 
year ’round.” 

“You said pirates once went over those moun- 
tains and sacked Caracas, ’ ’ remarked Harry. ‘ ‘ How 
did they get over without the railroad?” 



A STRANGE WAY OF HUNTING 


161 


“ Climbed over by trail/ ’ replied the captain. 
“ Mule-trains and folks come over the old road still. 
Went over it myself once, afore tbe steam road was 
built, — ’twasn’t finished Til 1883.” 

“ Is it a difficult trail ! ’ 9 asked Mr. Rogers. 

“Well, I dunno as some of the folks that spend 
their spare time a climbing mountains for sport 
would call it hard; but I’d go all my life without 
seeing Caracas or any other spot afore I’d hike 
over that trail again. I ’m a-getting too old and too 
fat for such humbuggin’. They’ve been a-fixing of 
the road up lately, I believe, and I’ve heard it’s good 
enough for carriages and automobiles now.” 

The “Cormorant” was now close to the port and 
the mighty cliff seemed actually to be on the point 
of toppling over on the yacht. Presently they 
rounded the end of the great concrete breakwater 
and entered the harbor. The boys were greatly sur- 
prised at the size of the anchorage as from the sea 
the breakwater had blended with the shore-line and 
gave no hint of the great area of water it protected. 

* ‘ Whew ! that is a big dock ! ’ ’ cried Paul. 1 ‘ How 
long is it?” 

“About half a mile,” replied the captain. “I 
can tell ye quite a bit ’bout this breakwater ’cause 
I had a friend who was a contractor and helped 
build it. It’s fifty feet wide at the bottom and thirty 
at the top. The outer end’s in 42 feet of water, 


162 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


with an average depth of 27 feet, and it sticks out 
of water for 18 feet. The bottom’s built of bags 
of concrete, weighing 150 tons each, piled up to nine 
feet from the water-line. It cost five million dol- 
lars and was finished in 1891.” 

“It must have proved of great benefit to the 
port,” remarked Mr. Rogers. “There seems to be 
no natural harbor here.” 

“Just an open roadstead,” said the captain. 
“Afore the breakwater was built ’twas one of the 
most dangerous anchorages on the coast. Calm as 
a millpond here now. You see the wind most always 
blows from the nor ’east, so nothing’s needed to the 
west’ard; ’specially as the point yonder cuts off any 
seas there may be.” 

The “Cormorant” had now run in close to the 
extensive concrete and iron docks and dropped an- 
chor in four fathoms of water, which the captain 
said was the average depth of the harbor. 

“Well, here we be,” he remarked as the sails were 
furled and the yacht swung motionless before the 
town. “Soon’s as the customs and health chaps 
come aboard we’ll hop ashore in Old New Spain.” 

As they waited for the customs boat the boys 
found much to interest them. They admired the 
scenery, were surprised at the number of vessels 
and amount of business at the docks, and watched 
a little train as it drew out from the town, rumbled 


A STRANGE WAY OF HUNTING 


163 


along the track on the narrow strip of shore and 
commenced to toil np the mountain side by curves 
and zigzags. A rambling, ancient-looking, half- 
fortress-like building back of the town attracted 
their attention and 
the captain told 
them it was the 
castle mentioned in 
Kingsley’s “West- 
ward Ho . 9 ’ 

But while all these 
things were interesting and the town was filled with 
color, life, and new and strange sights, yet the great 
mountain, rising from the palm-fringed beach, dom- 
inated everything, and the boys’ gaze constantly 
turned from other scenes to the lofty heights of rock 
and forest. 

The customs and quarantine officers now boarded 
the yacht and the papers and certificates of vaccina- 
tion — which the party had wisely obtained from 
the Venezuelan Consul before leaving New York — 
were carefully examined. 

Everything was found correct and satisfactory 
and with many bows and flourishes the courteous 
Venezuelans took their leave. 

“There’s not much to be seen in the port,” said 
the captain as the party prepared to go ashore, 
“and I reckon we’d better take the train to Caracas 



164 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


first thing. We can have a bit of a stroll about La 
Guaira when we come back. ’ ’ 

A few minutes later they stepped ashore on the 
splendid passenger pier, passed through the covered 
warehouses and reached the railway station. A 
train was standing on the track about to start and 
the captain had barely time to secure tickets and 
hustle the boys aboard before the whistle tooted, 
the powerful little locomotive puffed and snorted 
and the train rumbled through the outskirts of the 
town towards Caracas and the mountain top. 


CHAPTER X 


IN OLD NEW SPAIN 

For a short distance the train ran close to the 
shore, the blue water and sandy beach on one side 
and the frowning precipice on the other, and then, 
swinging around a curve, it commenced to ascend. 
From the moment the beach was left behind the 
boys kept their eyes riveted on their marvelous 
surroundings, and with good reason, for it is doubt- 
ful if anywhere else on earth one can enjoy a more 
wonderful ride than that from La Guaira to Ca- 
racas. 

Much to the boys’ surprise there were numerous 
stations on the line, the first and lowest being Mai- 
quetia, almost at sea level, the highest Catia, 3,135 
feet above the shore. From Maiquetia the real 
ascent began and the road turned and twisted up- 
ward until it plunged into the solid rock at Tunnel 
No. 1, over six hundred feet above the sea. 

As the train crawled along the mountain side the 
boys looked downward to the beach and waves 
directly below, and upon the quaint, red-roofed 
buildings of La Guaira with its docks and vessels 
165 


166 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


looking like mere specks upon the water of the 
harbor. 

Onward and upward wound the road, crossing 
slender, cobweb-like trestles over terrible ravines, 
roaring over stone culverts across barrancas and 
water courses, and plunging into the stygian black- 
ness of tunnels. In 
places it was hung 
by slender girders 
and cables from the 
face of the cliff, in 
other spots the right 
of way was cut deep 
into the precipitous 
wall. Often, as the boys looked ahead, the road 
appeared to run off into space, but as the train 
reached the spot it would swing dizzily about some 
jutting cliff in a horseshoe curve or hairpin turn 
and again resume its ever-upward climb. In many 
places the boys could look from the windows for a 
sheer thousand feet into the sea and several times 
they gazed straight down upon the tracks over 
which they had just passed. 

“It’s like a puppy chasing its tail,” laughed Paul 
as in one spot the train swung around a sharp, in- 
clined curve and the locomotive was almost above 
the last car. 

‘ ‘ It’s the most remarkable piece of engineering 



IN OLD NEW SPAIN 


167 


I’ve ever seen,” said Mr. Rogers. ‘ ‘How many 
tunnels and bridges are on the line, captain?” 

‘ 4 Ten bridges and eight tunnels, ’ ’ replied the cap- 
tain. 

“I’m surprised that the locomotive seems to 
have so little difficulty in hauling the train,” said 
Mr. Rogers. ‘ 4 The grades 
cannot be very great.” 

“Four per cent maxi- 
mum,” replied the cap- 
tain. “We’re pretty nigh 
the top,” he continued; 

“look ahead, lads, for 
your first glimpse of 
Caracas.” 

Presently the sea was 
hidden from view, the train slipped rapidly around 
a curve and the boys, looking back, saw hills rising 
behind them. 

Onward through woods and verdure, past or- 
chards and cultivated lands they rushed ; now cross- 
ing a foaming stream; again passing tiny, wattled 
huts or small villages, until suddenly, with a 
shriek of the whistle, the train burst from a 
screen of foliage and Caracas was spread before 
them. 

Surrounded on every side by lofty, green-clothed 
mountains the town lay bathed in brilliant sunshine 



168 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


in the center of a great bowl-like valley nearly ten 
miles long and five miles wide. 

“It’s like a gigantic red poppy in a green lawn,” 
exclaimed Paul and while the others laughed at his 
queer comparison they were compelled to admit it 
was very appropriate. 

In a few minutes they were in the outskirts of the 
great city and two hours after leaving La Guaira 
the train drew into the Caracas station. 

The boys had expected to find a picturesque, an- 
cient city with narrow streets, old world nooks and 
corners and queerly-dressed natives. 

Instead they stepped from the station into a splen- 
didly-built, # modern city among men and women 
dressed in the latest styles and fashions. The air 
was cool and bracing, a fresh wind was blowing, and 
the visitors could scarcely believe they were still 
in the tropics and less than 700 miles from the 
equator. 

Trolley cars clanged along the broad, paved 
street, rows of waiting taxis and cabs lined the side- 
walks waiting for fares, carriages, automobiles and 
pedestrians passed in a constant stream and all pre- 
conceived ideas of Spanish America were thrown 
aside as the boys stood at the portals of Venezuela’s 
capital and waited for the captain to bargain with 
a cab driver for their sight-seeing tour about the 
town. 



Caracas lay spread before them. 



“I think those avenues are fine/’ said Harry, 









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* 







































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* 
























































IN OLD NEW SPAIN 


169 


Seated within the Victoria they drove slowly 
through the streets, which the boys found were wide, 
straight and smoothly paved towards the center of 
the city. 

1 ‘ Everything seems up-to-date and modern here, ’ 7 
remarked Paul. “I thought the Venezuelans were 
backward and always having revolutions. ’ 9 

“ Seeing ’s believing / 9 laughed the captain. 
1 1 They do scrap a bit now and then, hut on the whole 
they’re a mighty nice lot of folks.” 

“One would have little difficulty in getting about 
in Caracas,” remarked Mr. Rogers. “I notice all 
the streets cross at right angles and are numbered.” 

“Run east and west and north and south,” said 
the captain. “Caracas was pretty nigh destroyed 
by earthquake back in 1812, but ye’d never know it 
now. These folks are mighty proud of their 
capital. ’ ’ 

“They have good reason,” declared Mr. Rogers. 
“I’ve never seen a more attractive city of its size. 
How many inhabitants are there?” 

“About 100,000,” replied the captain. “Ranks 
ninth among the Spanish American capitals in size, 
but along of the top of the bunch for business and 
being up-to-date. ’ ’ 

“I think these avenues are fine,” exclaimed 
Harry. “They’re all so well kept with their trees 
and flower-beds and little plazas.” 


170 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Why, here’s a river flowing right through the 
city,” cried Paul. 

“Three of ’em flow through the town,” said the 
captain. “They’re called Caroata, Catuche and 
Anauco, and they join and form the Guaire that 
marks the boundary of the city to the south. Here 
we be at the Plaza Bolivar. Let’s hop out and 
stretch our legs a bit.” 

The boys found this plaza a most attractive spot 
with the great bronze equestrian statue of the lib- 
erator in the center, the beds of gay flowers, the 
shady trees and the splendid buildings on all sides 
of the square. The captain pointed out the great 
cathedral on the northeast with the Post Office and 
Library to the northwest, the municipal building, 
jail and Archbishop’s palace to the south and the 
“Casa Amarilla” to the west. 

“That’s the ‘ White House’ of Venezuela,” he ex- 
plained, “ ’ceptin’ it’s yeller; that’s what ‘Casa 
Amarilla’ means — ‘Yaller House.’ We’ll step over 
there and have a look at it. It ’s worth seeing. 

“Now I’ll show ye something that’ll make ye 
think of home, ’ ’ chuckled the captain when they had 
visited the various interesting buildings about the 
plaza. 

A short drive brought them to another fine plaza 
and as the boys caught sight of the statue in its 
center they uttered exclamations of surprise. 


4 





Surrounded by mountains, the town lay bathed in sunshine. 















7 



































































































♦ 











IN OLD NEW SPAIN 


171 


“Why, that’s George Washington,” exclaimed 
Harry. ‘ 4 What ’s he doing down here in V enezuela ? ’ ’ 

The captain laughed. 1 1 Told ye I ’d show ye some- 
thing that would make ye think of home,” he cried. 

“Washington’s just about as big a favorite down 
here as old Bolivar. One of them’s father of the 
United States of America and t ’other’s the father of 
the United States of Venezuela — and about half the 
rest of South America besides. Now I’ll show ye 
a chap who knew Washington and helped Uncle 
Sam lick the British.” 

The next stop was at a little plaza before a large 
church-like building. 

“Here’s the chap,” announced the captain, point- 
ing to a statue in the plaza. “It’s General Miranda. 
Born right here in Caracas, but his name’s on the 
Arch of Triumph in Paris and he fought ’longside 
of Lafayette in the Revolutionary War. This ’ere 
building’s the ‘Pantheon’,” he continued. “We’ll 
step inside and see Bolivar’s tomb.” 

Within the building the first sight that greeted 
the visitors was a magnificent piece of sculpture 
representing Bolivar and flanked by figures sym- 
bolical of Justice and Innocence and guarded by a 
crouching lion. 

“Bolivar’s remains are in that monument,” ex- 
plained the captain, “and in the three naves about 
the sides are the bones of Paez and other prominent 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


172 

Venezuelans. Bolivar’s sword, uniforms and deco- 
rations are in the National Museum over yonder, 
but we can’t see everything and the Capitol’s the 
next on the list.” 

The boys thought the Capitol the finest building 
they had seen. Its Spanish-Moorish architecture, 
large flower- and tree-filled patio and imposing en- 
trances were very attractive and some time was 
spent examining the 
paintings and busts of fa- 
mous Venezuelans which 
adorned the large room 
known as the ‘ 4 Salon 
Eliptico. ’ ’ 

“Now I reckon we’ll 
drive out to the Paseo,” 
said the captain. “It’s a 
mighty pretty spot and 
sometimes they call it ‘El Calvario’ or ‘The Cal- 
vary.’ Ye’ll have a fine view from there.” 

Driving through the streets the captain pointed 
out the Central University, a beautiful Gothic build- 
ing fronting the Capitol, the Masonic Temple, sev- 
eral fine theaters, the big two-storied market which 
he said was the finest in America, the telephone 
building, and many other public buildings of in- 
terest. 

“There are about forty bridges in the city,” he 



IN OLD NEW SPAIN 


173 


remarked as they drove over a picturesque structure 
in the northeastern part of the town. “This is the 
biggest and yonder’s the Paseo or Calvary.” 

A moment later they entered the park and the 
boys and Mr. Rogers vowed it magnificent. Every- 
where great trees shaded the well-kept avenues 
that led through shrubbery and flowers, fountains 
gleamed among the foliage and scores of pedes- 
trians, carriages and automobiles filled the place 
with life. From the summit of the hill the boys could 
look upon the entire city and the captain pointed 
out various spots which they had not before 
seen. 

“That big building yonder’s the ‘Miraflores’ or 
Presidents palace,’ ’ he said. “Yonder’s the ob- 
servatory; that patch of green’s the Grand Savana 
where they have horse races and that big place is 
the bull-ring. ’ ’ 

“I can see a train running across the valley,” 
said Harry. “Does the railroad continue beyond 
Caracas?” 

“Nope,” answered the captain; “that’s another 
line. There are three roads a-running out of the 
capital aside from the one we came on. The Central 
runs to Petare and Santa Lucia, another goes to El 
Valle, and the other to Valencia. The last’s called 
the 4 Gran Ferrocarril de Venezuela’ or in other 
words the 1 Great Railroad of Venezuela,’ and it’s 


174 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


pretty nigh as interesting as the one to La Guaira. 
Has 212 bridges and 86 tunnels and takes ye to 
Valencia — as pretty a place as ye’ll find.” 

“ I presume with so many rivers near at hand 
Caracas has an excellent water supply,” said Mr. 
Rogers as the party entered the carriage for the 
return trip. 

6 ‘ Fine ! ’ ’ replied the captain. ‘ 6 It ’s brought from 
the Rio Macarao about fifteen miles away to a reser- 
voir ’top of this hill.” 

“Whew! It’s really getting chilly,” exclaimed 
Harry as the carriage whirled briskly through the 
outlying streets. “An overcoat wouldn’t be bad 
here after sundown, I should think.” 

“Ye’d find most of the folks wearin’ ’em after 
nightfall,” replied the captain. “It’s never real hot 
here. Highest it ever gets is 82, but it never goes 
below 48 and usually hangs round 70. Just about 
perfect, I think.” 

After dining at a restaurant the party boarded 
the train for La Guaira and the boys found the 
down trip over the wonderful road fully as interest- 
ing as their ride in the morning. 

When they reached La Guaira they found the 
station filled with a laughing, chattering, good- 
natured crowd which had just arrived on another 
train. 

“Where are all those people coming from?” 


IN OLD NEW SPAIN 


175 


asked Paul. “They look like a lot of excursionists 
coming home from Coney Island. ’ ’ 

“That’s about what they are,” laughed the cap- 
tain. “Just in from Macuto, ’bout five miles to the 
east’ard. Great spot for excursions and picnics. 
There’s a fine beach there, all shut in by stakes set 
close together to keep the sharks out. ‘All the 
world’ goes down there for the bathing, as the na- 
tives say. Lots of folks have fine seaside houses 
there and the Venezuelans call the place the ‘New- 
port of South America. ’ Pretty nice spot but noth- 
ing very interesting. ’ ’ 

A few hours in the evening sufficed for the boys 
to see all the sights of La Guaira, and they boarded 
the yacht after one of the most enjoyable and inter- 
esting days they had ever known. 

“Where are we bound for now?” asked Paul, as 
the “Cormorant” headed out from the harbor at 
sunrise the next morning. 

“Puerto Cabello,” replied the captain. “Know 
what Puerto Cabello means?” 

“Well, we’ve been studying Spanish and trying 
to pick up what we could of the language,” said 
Harry. “Cabello means ‘hair,’ so I suppose Puerto 
Cabello means ‘Hair Port’; but I can’t see any sense 
in such a name. ’ ’ 

“Well, well,” laughed the captain. “Ye’re a-get- 
ting along fine. Don’t wonder the name puzzles 


176 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


ye though. It’s called ‘Port of the Hair’ ’cause 
the harbor’s that fine and safe that the old Span- 
iards used to say a ship could be moored there with 
a hair. ’ ’ 

“Is it one of the places attacked by Morgan and 
other pirates?” asked Paul. 

“Yes,” replied the captain. 



“They all took a whack at it, 
but were mostly driven off. 
It’s a mighty easy place to 
protect and the old Span- 
iards built a lot of forts in 
the harbor to keep off the 
Dutch pirates who used to 
come across from Curasao. 
They served just as well to 
fight off others and old Com- 
modore Knowles got a good 
licking when he tried to take 
the town with a British fleet. 
The last fight atwixt the 


Venezuelans and the Spaniards in the war of 
Independence took place at Puerto Cabello in 
1823 .” 

As they sailed along the land was in plain sight 
and the boys found plenty to interest them in watch- 
ing the lofty mountains, frowning cliffs, sandy coves 
and little villages of the South American coast. 


IN OLD NEW SPAIN 


177 


Just before noon they sighted Puerto Cabello, about 
sixty miles from La Guaira, and entered the narrow, 
winding harbor entrance. 

“I don’t wonder the pirates found it hard work 
to take this port,” remarked Mr. Rogers as the 
yacht passed close under the ancient forts which 
crowned the numerous green islands in the harbor. 
1 * They must have been compelled to run a veritable 
gauntlet of cannon.” 

“It's a beautiful place,” said Harry. “These 
little islands in the blue water and the foreign-look- 
ing town in the background make the place seem 
more like a picture than the real thing.” 

“ It ’s real enough , 9 9 laughed the captain. ‘ ‘ Puerto 
Cabello *s an important place and does a big busi- 
ness in coffee, cocoa, cotton, tobacco, hides and skins 
and cabinet and dye woods. It’s the shipping port 
for a lot of the interior.” 

The last of the islets had now been passed and 
the “Cormorant” crossed the harbor proper and 
ran alongside the large concrete dock before the 
modern and attractive customs house. 

A number of large steamships were moored at 
the docks, which were covered with bales, boxes and 
barrels of merchandise from every corner of the 
earth. 

“Isn’t that a funny-looking man!” whispered 
Harry. He drew the others ’ attention to a stocky, 


178 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


smooth-shaven individual in a black suit with short 
jacket, red sash, and a peculiarly-shaped hat, who 
leaned against a nearby post. 

“Why, he’s got a pigtail sticking out from under 
his hat,” exclaimed Paul. 

“He’s a bull-fighter,” said the captain. “Proba- 
bly oft that Spanish steamer yonder. There ’s a lot 
of ’em here. Come over from Spain and always 
dress that way and wear little queues. Look there, 
lads — see the fightin’ bulls yonder!” He pointed 
to the forward deck of the steamer where the boys 
saw several splendid black bulls confined in wooden 
stalls. 

4 4 Reckon that chap ’s waiting to see them critters 
taken oft the ship. Might as well stop a bit and 
see how it’s done.” 

“I don’t see how any people can enjoy anything 
as cruel as a bull-fight,” said Paul. “I’ve got a 
pretty poor opinion of bull-fighters. ’ ’ 

4 4 Well, it’s all according to one’s bringing up, I 
reckon,” said the captain. 4 4 These folks don’t think 
a bull-fight’s half as brutal as a football game or 
a prize-fight. It’s pretty tough on the horses for 
sure; but don’t be too hard on the men fighters. 
It’s a risky business and a chap’s got to have a 
heap of nerve and pluck to face one of them critters 
in the ring. It’s no place for cowards. If there’s 
any truth in the old saying that the 4 good die young’ 




The modern customs house at Puerto Cabello, 





IN OLD NEW SPAIN 


179 


bull-fighting chaps must be awful good — most of ’em 
die young, all right.’ ’ 

“That fellow leaning against the post doesn’t 
look as if he had life enough to fight anything. 
He’s the picture of ease and indolence,” said Mr. 
Rogers. 

i ‘ There comes the first bull, ’ ’ cried Harry. ‘ ‘ My ! 
but he’s a savage-looking creature.” 

The bull was being led from the stalls, several 
men holding him with ropes as the great fellow 
snorted and bellowed, tossed his long, sharp horns, 
and pawed at the decks. 

Suddenly one of the men slipped, the bull plunged 
forward, the other men were thrown helter-skelter, 
and with a tremendous bellow the great black animal 
charged furiously along the decks. 

Instantly every man took to his heels. Into the 
rigging they scrambled, over the sides they leaped, 
onto the cabins they climbed, seeking safety any- 
where and everywhere from the enraged, terrified 
creature rushing here and there and striving to gore 
someone on his tossing horns. 

In an instant the bull had cleared the decks and 
stood snorting and shaking his head near the fore- 
mast. Without a moment’s hesitation the lazy- 
looking bull-fighter sprang forward. With marvel- 
ous agility he leaped over boxes and bundles, tear- 
ing off his scarlet sash as he ran, and grabbing up 


180 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


a coil of rope lie rushed up the gangway of the 
ship. 

With eyes fixed steadfastly on the bull he walked 
calmly forward on the deck; the flaming sash ex- 
tended in his left hand, the coil of rope in his right. 
For a brief instant the bull stood motionless, and 
then with an angry bellow lowered his head and 
charged straight at the Spaniard. 

“0! he’ll be killed !” cried Harry. 

The words were scarcely uttered when the in- 
furiated animal reached the matador, only to have 
the latter step nimbly aside and drop the loop of 
the rope over the sharp horns. With a bound he 
reached the windlass, whirled the rope around one 
of the drums and the next instant the bull fell to the 
deck with a crash, as the rope came taut. 

Before the bull could regain his feet the Spaniard 
was beside him, the sash was wrapped about his 
head, blindfolding him, while a dozen sailors hur- 
ried forward to secure the captured animal. 

“Hurrah!” shouted Paul. “That was splendid. 
I ’ll take back what I said about bull-fighters. ’ ’ 

“It was as good as a ‘Wild West Show’,” de- 
clared Harry. 

“I would never have believed the man capable 
of such skill and agility,” said Mr. Rogers. 

“A heap better than a regular bull-fight,” 


IN OLD NEW SPAIN 


181 


chuckled the captain. “I told ye those chaps had 
plenty of pluck.’ ’ 

The party now turned toward the town and 
strolled through its streets, visited its many fine 
buildings, and admired the lovely plazas and parks. 
A few hours were sufficient in which to see the most 
interesting and attractive features and before sun- 
down the party was again aboard the “ Cormorant” 
and sailing over the blue Caribbean sea with Puerto 
Cabello a mere speck of white against the green 
hills far astern. 

“We’ve had a fine time but we haven’t found any 
treasure,” remarked Harry. “Where’s the next 
wreck you’re going to look for, Cap’n Frank?” 

“We’re heading for it now,” replied the captain. 
“Over to Oruba. That’s a Dutch island ’bout forty 
miles west of Curasao. We’ve got to stop at 
Curasao first and get permission to look for the 
wreck. The Dutch chaps are mighty particular 
about such matters.” 

“Uncle Charles told us about Curasao last win- 
ter,” said Harry. “That’s the place where they 
speak that funny language — Papa ’-something or 
other he called it.” 

“Papiamento,” said the captain. “Mixture of 
Dutch, Spanish, Injun and English. Most of the 
folks talk Spanish and English there nowadays.” 


182 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Is Curagao an interesting spot?” asked Paul. 
“Queerest bit of land in the Caribbean,” replied 
the captain. “Looks like a speck of Holland blowed 
over and dropped down this side of the Atlantic.” 


CHAPTER XI 


AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 

Daylight found the “Cormorant” close to the 
coast of Curagao and the boys were greatly disap- 
pointed at its appearance. It was low and monot- 
onous in outline with a few fairly high hills, but 
with a dry, arid aspect very different from the 
verdant islands to which the boys were accustomed. 

“I shouldn’t think anything would grow there,” 
said Paul. “It’s the most barren looking place 
we’ve seen yet.” 

“Nothing of any account’s raised there,” said 
the captain. “They raise a few goats, a little fruit, 
and ship some aloes. The business of Curagao ’s 
commerce; and as it’s a free port everything’s 
mighty cheap. There’s not a stream on the whole 
island and I dunno if there’s even a well or spring.” 

“Are there no industries whatever !” asked 
Harry. 

“Yes; there’s a whopping big phosphate mine 
on the south coast,” replied the captain. “And 
smuggling’s carried on a bit. A heap of Venezuelan 
revolutionary chaps come over here to cook up 
183 


184 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


shenanigans too. And Lor’, I most forgot ’bout the 
publishing business. There’s a big book store and 
publishing company here called the ‘libreria.’ It 
belongs to a firm named Betancourt.” 

“ That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard yet,” 
laughed Paul. “Imagine a publishing house here, 
of all places.” 

“ ’Tain’t half as funny as some of the sights 
ye’ll see,” declared the captain. 

“It seems a pretty good-sized island,” said 
Harry. ‘ ‘ How large is it, captain ? ’ ’ 

“About forty miles long by eight wide.” 

“Is it very old?” asked Paul. 

“Discovered by old Amerigo Vespucci in 1499,” 
replied Captain Perkins. “They say a lot of giants 
lived here then; but they were all killed off years 
ago. Yonder’s the harbor, lads. Keep your eyes 
open to see the sights.” 

The yacht was now approaching a very narrow 
strait leading directly into the brown hills and pres- 
ently passed between two ancient forts, so close 
together that the soldiers of the garrisons could 
talk across the narrow strip of water. 

Ahead of them the boys saw a long, low bridge, 
or causeway, across the water and seemingly bar- 
ring the passage of the yacht. Captain Perkins 
pulled the compressed air siren, the blast echoed 
and reverberated from the hills about and a moment 


AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 


185 


later an answering whistle came faintly from within 
the harbor. 

Suddenly the bridge ahead commenced to move 
and presently it had swung far to one side and open 
water was visible. 

“Why, it’s a bridge of boats and it’s being moved 
by that little steam-launch, ’ ’ cried Harry. 

‘ 1 Told ye ’twas a funny place, ’ ’ chuckled the cap- 
tain. “Isn’t that bridge the funniest thing o’ the 
sort ye ever saw?” 

The yacht now moved slowly ahead, passed the 
long line of pontoons which had been pulled to one 
side to allow her to enter the harbor, and the boys 
looked with interest at the strange town of Willem- 
stadt. The great landlocked harbor was in the form 
of a three-leafed clover with the town stretching 
along the center and right hand side while on the 
opposite shores was another village. 

“Yonder’s Pietermaay and Schardo,” said the 
captain, indicating the main town to the right. 
“That on t’other side o’ the bay’s called Otra- 
banda.” 

The yacht came to anchor close to the waterfront 
and the boys were soon ashore. 

“Goodness, what a queer, bright-colored city!” 
exclaimed Paul. “Everything’s pink and blue and 
yellow and red.” 

“Everything’s thoroughly Dutch,” declared Mr. 


186 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Rogers. “See those steep, gabled roofs, dormer 
windows and quaint ornaments. All it needs is a 
few storks on the roof-tops.” 

“Or people with wooden shoes,” laughed Harry. 

“Oh, what a funny street-car,” exclaimed Paul. 
He pointed to a tiny open car being slowly drawn 
along the rails by a diminutive donkey. 

“We’ll just hop in and have a ride,” said the 
captain. “Might as well see all the sights while 
it’s cool.” 

“Will that little donkey be able to pull all of us?” 
asked Harry. 

The captain roared with laughter at this. “Lor’ 
bless ye, yes,” he cried. “Wait till ye see some o’ 
these cars loaded down with big, fat Dutchmen and 
colored women and then ye’ll think this load’s just 
a joke.” 

The tiny tramcar proceeded so slowly through 
the streets that the boys had an excellent oppor- 
tunity to see the buildings, people and sights of the 
town. Many of the streets were wide and well 
paved, but many more were mere lanes of rough 
cobbles and so narrow that the balconies of the 
houses almost met. The people were of every race 
and color and chattered and gabbled in their queer 
dialect and the shops and stores were very numerous 
and filled with every imaginable article. Presently 
the tram left the city, skirted the shores of the 



Everything is thoroughly Dutch in Curasao. 






















































































































































































































AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 187 

harbor, and carried the passengers to the other town 
across the bay. Here the party alighted, strolled 
about the quaint Dutch village and the captain then 
suggested that they cross over by the bridge of 
boats. As they paid their toll the hoys noticed that 
the gate-keeper looked at their feet before handing 
back the change. 

“That’s to see if you’re barefoot,” laughed the 
captain. “Two cents each for folks with shoes and 
one cent for those barefooted.” 

The boys thought this very amusing and found 
the queer bridge very interesting. 

“Invented by a dhap named Captain Smith,” said 
the captain. “Regular down-east Yankee from 
Maine. American Consul here at one time. Made 
a heap of money bringing down ice. First chap to 
bring ice to the island.” 

“You spoke about pirates from Curasao attack- 
ing Puerto Cabello,” said Harry. “Did they live 
here?” 

“Used to be a great spot for ’em,” replied the 
captain. “Had a regular lookout; top of a cliff 
over to the Schattegat; we’ll take a trip over there 
afore we leave.” 

Arriving once more at the capital the party 
boarded the launch and ran across the harbor to the 
huge, landlocked lagoon known as the Schattegat. 
Near the entrance an ancient fort was perched high 


188 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


on a rocky cliff, and this the captain said was the 
ancient pirates’ watchtower, bnt was now nsed as a 
signal station. The party scrambled up the steep 
trail to the fort and from that point had a splendid 
view of the queer, shamrock-shaped harbor, the 
pretty town, the odd bridge of boats and the sea 
beyond; with the Venezuelan mountains on the 
horizon. 

“It must have been an ideal pirates’ lair,” said 
Mr. Rogers. “I can readily imagine the boats lying 
in wait, screened by these cliffs, and dashing forth 
to seize any unfortunate merchantmen sighted from 
this lofty lookout. ’ ’ 

As soon as the party returned to the town the 
captain visited the government buildings, to secure 
permission to investigate the wreck which he be- 
lieved was at Oruba, while the boys and Mr. Rogers 
strolled about the stores and shops looking for 
curios and souvenirs. 

“Reckon we’ll have to cross that wreck off the 
list, lads,” the captain announced when he rejoined 
the boys. ‘ ‘ The Dutchmen say the wreck’s not there 
and if ’twas there we couldn’t get permission to 
salvage it and even if we did the treasure ’d belong 
to the government anyway.” 

“That’s a shame!” exclaimed Paul. “If all the 
wrecks turn out like these first two there won’t be 
much chance of finding anything.” 


AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 


189 


“Well, if it hadn’t been for the wreck we wouldn’t 
have come to Curasao and I’m mighty glad we 
visited the place,” declared Harry. 

“Can’t expect treasure-hunting to be all easy 
sailing,” laughed the captain. “Besides,” he added, 
“there’s plenty o’ wrecks left. Let’s be a ’getting 
along toward the next one, lads.” 

By mid-afternoon Curasao was but a blur of 
haze upon the eastern horizon and when darkness 
fell the “Cormorant” was safely anchored close to 
the Paraguana Peninsula in the waters of the Gulf 
of Maracaibo. The country near the yacht was low 
and flat, but across the Gulf the boys could see the 
dim outlines of mountains against the sunset. 

“Yonder’s the tip o’ the Andes,” said the captain 
in reply to the boys’ questions. “ ’Tother side of 
the mountains is Colombia. It’s a wild country 
yonder; Goajiro it’s called and inhabited by wild 
Injuns.” 

“Are there many really wild Indians in Vene- 
zuela V 9 Harry inquired. 

“Dunno how many,” replied the captain. “I’ve 
heard that when the Spaniards first came here there 
were ’bout 150 tribes. Along o’ 1873 all but 45 
tribes had been killed off or mixed up with the 
whites. There’s still a plenty of wild ones left in 
the interior ; but the chaps over yonder are the only 
ones hereabouts.” 


190 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


1 1 There must be good bunting about here,” re- 
marked Paul. “I don’t see any towns near. I’d 
love to go for a bunt in tbe interior jungles.” 

“Ye may bave a cbance yet,” replied tbe captain. 
“After we’ve run down to Maracaibo to-morrow 
we’ll take a trip into tbe lake and bave a look at 
tbe towns on stilts that gave tbe country its name. 
Like as not ye’ll bave a cbance to sboot something 
worth while there. There’s heaps o’ swamps and 
lakes on tbe sou ’west shores.” 

“What are tbe towns on stilts?” asked Paul. 
“And bow did they give tbe country its name?” 
inquired Harry. 

“Lake o’ Maracaibo was discovered by old Ojeda 
— you saw bis tomb over to San Domingo — and when 
be saw tbe Indian bouses stuck up on poles in tbe 
water it made him think of Venice and be called it 
Venezuela or Little Venice. Later on tbe name 
spread to the whole coast. There’s plenty o’ the 
Injuns still a-living in villages on spiles, but 
they’re pretty well civilized now; mostly fisher- 
men. ’ ’ 

At daylight the motor was started and tbe yacht 
glided rapidly southward across the broad, tranquil 
Gulf. 

“Yonder’s about where that wreck is,” remarked 
the captain. He pointed to some low-lying sandy 
islets with a few cocoanut palms upon them. 



Most of the Indians are pretty well civilized 


WBmmmi 









































































































AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 


191 


“Reckon we’ll run in close and have a look afore 
we make the city,” he added. 

The “Cormorant” was anchored off the low, 
sandy point and the captain with Mr. Rogers and 
the hoys stepped into the dinghy and rowed toward 
the sand-bars. For an hour or two they searched 
carefully, but the bottom was only visible in shallow 
water and nothing could be distinguished at any 
great depth. 

“Might ’a’ known it,” exclaimed the captain. 
“Over 500 rivers flow into the lake yonder and the 
water runs out into the gulf ’bout six knots an hour. 
There’s no time for the mud and sand to settle and 
if there was the old wreck would ’a’ been covered 
up with sand years ago. Never thought o’ that ’til 
I got here. Joke’s on me this time, lads.” The 
captain laughed heartily and the party returned to 
the yacht. 

“Is this the only entrance to the lake?” asked 
Mr. Rogers as the “Cormorant” passed through a 
narrow waterway less than a mile in width. 

“There’s four ‘canals’ as they’re called,” replied 
the captain. “This one’s the San Carlos and the 
best of the lot.” 

Presently the yacht passed a sandy point covered 
with cocoanut palms and before them was the city 
of Maracaibo. 

“Why, that’s a big town!” exclaimed Paul in 


192 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


surprise. “I expected to find just a little village.’ ’ 

“Maracaibo’s one o’ tbe most important and pro- 
gressive places in the country,” said tbe captain. 
“Population of fifty or sixty thousand and does a 
whopping big trade.” 

“What do they raise here?” asked Harry. 
“Mostly cattle and cocoanuts,” replied Captain 



Perkins. “About seventeen million nuts each year, 
most of ’em made into oil, and ’bout fifty thousand 
head o’ cattle. They make a heap of cheese, too — 
’bout five million pounds a year. Late years they’ve 
been a-raising lots of bananas — ten or eleven mil- 
lion bunches each year.” 

“It looks like quite a modern town,” remarked 
Mr. Rogers, “but I presume it is very old.” 

“Founded in 1529 by a Spanish Dutchman — 
Abraham Alfinger,” replied the captain. 

The yacht was now close to the town and was soon 
moored alongside the extensive concrete docks amid 


AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 


193 


hundreds of other craft of every size, rig and 
nation. 

The customs formalities were soon over and the 
boys stepped ashore at the Calle de la Marina, which 
was crowded with pedestrians, 
diminutive donkeys loaded 
with merchandise of various 
kinds, creaking bull carts and 
mule trains from the interior. 

“It’s the most foreign-look- 
ing crowd weVe seen,” said 
Paul. ‘ 4 Aren’t those mule drivers picturesque? 

They look like brigands.” 

“Oh, look at those skins,” cried Harry. He 
pointed to a half-breed Indian squatting beside a 
bundle of tawny, black-spotted hides. 

“Why, they’re leopard skins!” exclaimed Paul. 
“I didn’t know they had leopards down here.” 

“Jaguar,” said Mr. Rogers. “Leopards are not 
found in America.” 

“Tiger, the folks here call ’em,” said the cap- 
tain. “But I reckon you’re right, Rogers.” 

“Are they for sale? Where did he get them?” 
asked Harry. “I’d love to buy one if I can.” 

“Easy to find out,” said the captain and ap- 
proaching the Mestizo he spoke to him in Spanish. 

4 4 He says he ’ll sell ’em, ’ ’ said the captain. ‘ 4 Asks 



194 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


ten dollars apiece. If ye want a couple I’ll dicker 
with him a hit. ’ ’ 

“Ten dollars is cheap/ ’ said Paul. “I’ll gladly 
pay that for a skin.” 

“Cheap or not,” said 
the captain, “if that 
chap asks ten he means 
five. They always ask 
twice what they expect 
to get.” 

As a result of a little 
bargaining two fine skins 
were purchased for fifteen dollars and the boys 
asked the captain to inquire where and how the 
native killed the jaguars. 

“Back in the bush,” said the captain, after a few 
minutes ’ conversation. ‘ 4 Says there ’s plenty of ’em 
there. Hunts ’em with dogs.” 

“I’d like to shoot a jaguar,” declared Harry. 

“I do hope we have a chance.” 

“Reckon ye’ll have to wait till we get to some 
other place,” said the captain. “This chap says 
it’s four days’ trip to the place where ye’d be likely 
to find ’em.” 

The party now walked up a well-paved, wide 
street towards the center of the town, passing be- 
tween solid, well-built buildings, large warehouses 
and busy stores. Electric lights, telephone wires 



AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 


195 


and a steam tramway were noticed, as well as the 
splendid Baralt theater, the Municipal Palace, the 
Government Palace and several hotels. 

“That’s the National College,” said the captain, 
as they stopped to look at a fine building. “They’re 
great on education here,” he continued. “Medical 
school, half a dozen colleges, a big library and heaps 
o’ schools.” 

The Post Office, custom house, hospitals and pub- 
lic market were all visited and the party then seated 
themselves for a short rest in a beautiful plaza 
known as Lake Park. Here the boys’ attention was 
at once attracted by the monument to Columbus with 
the bust of the discoverer surmounting an immense 
globe representing the world and with the hemi- 
spheres, countries, islands and other details very 
carefully and accurately shown. 

As the air became decidedly hot toward midday 
and as all the sights of the city had been seen the 
captain suggested they run into Lake Maracaibo. 

Accordingly they boarded the yacht and passing 
through the shallow Tablazo canal entered the great 
lake. 

“It looks like the ocean,” said Paul. “I’d never 
think this was a lake.” 

“Pretty good sized one,” laughed the captain. 
“Something over a hundred miles long and pretty 
nigh as wide,” 


196 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


For several hours the “Cormorant” sailed along 
the western edge of the lake, passing mile after 
mile of cocoanut groves, broad plantations of ba- 
nanas, patches of jungle, and grassy savannas. 

Gradually the cultivated lands grew less, the for- 
est growths increased, and the mouths of many 
rivers and creeks were seen. 

“Oh, there’s a flock of parrots,” 
cried Harry as with loud, harsh cries 
a number of green birds passed close 
to the yacht and settled among the 
trees on the shore. 

“Do run in and let us have a closer 
view of them, captain,” begged Paul. 
“All right, lad,” chuckled the cap- 
tain. “Ye’ll see a plenty of parrots and paroquets 
anywhere in the bush down here. Look yonder and 
ye’ll see some macaws.” 

He pointed to a tall palm and the boys exclaimed 
in admiration as they saw the huge red and blue 
birds moving about among the leaves and feeding on 
the seeds. 

The parrots and macaws showed no fear of the 
yacht as it slipped into the little creek near them 
and the boys had a splendid view of the brilliantly 
plumaged creatures in their native haunts. 

“There’s a toucan,” Harry suddenly exclaimed. 
“See, right on that low tree.” 



AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 


197 


“That’s so, said Mr. Rogers. “This appears 
to be a paradise for birds.” 

“Oh, there’s a whole flock of them!” cried Paul, 
who was studying the foliage through his glasses. 
“Goodness, aren’t they queer-looking creatures.” 

Suddenly and without ap- 
parent reason the birds took 
wing with loud, hoarse cries 
and the boys caught sight of 
something furry and brown 
among the foliage. 

“It’s a monkey,” cried 
Paul. 

“There’s another and another,” cried Harry ex- 
citedly. 

The captain almost choked with suppressed 
laughter. 

“Well, well, well!” he exclaimed. “Who’d ’a’ 
thought you lads would ’a’ been so tickled to see a 
bunch o’ monkeys and a flock o’ birds. Lor’ bless 
ye, the woods are full of ’em down here.” 

1 4 But they ’re so tame, ’ ’ said Harry. ‘ ‘ They don ’t 
seem to mind the sound of our voices at all. Those 
we saw in St. Kitts were as wild as hawks.” 

“Those are hunted while these, I presume, are not 
molested,” remarked Mr. Rogers. 

“That’s the idea,” said the captain. “No one 
hunts these chaps. They’re white-faced critters. 



198 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


The folk hunt the red ones for food; hut these are 
no use.” 

The monkeys were jumping and leaping about in 
the trees and the boys watched them with the great- 
est interest until the active creatures trooped out of 
sight among the foliage. 

As the boat sailed onward 
along the shores the boys 
watched the trees and brush 
closely, eager to catch a 
glimpse of birds and beasts, 
and they were well rewarded 
for their trouble. Parrots, 
paroquets, macaws, toucans 
and herons were abundant; 
several monkeys were seen 
and brilliantly colored small birds were everywhere. 

‘ ‘ Look, look,” Harry suddenly exclaimed. 

1 i There ’s a house on stilts. ’ ’ 

“ Right ye are,” said the captain as everyone 
looked where the boy pointed. ‘ ‘ Fisherman ’s 
house. See his net just beyond? There’s the chap 
now a-catching fish with a hand-net.” 

The boys also saw the fisherman, a swarthy Mes- 
tizo, standing in the shallow water with a huge, 
round net in his hands. They watched him as they 
passed and the fellow looked up and called a 
“ Buenas Dias” to those on the yacht. 





The boys saw the fisherman standing in the water. 












' 


















































AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 


199 


“Used to be a village just ’round that point 
yonder,” remarked the captain. “Dunno as it’s 
there yet. Yes, there ’tis.” 

The yacht had now rounded the point and the 
boys saw the quaint village of the lake dwellers 
before them. 

The little thatched houses on platforms raised 
above the water on posts were quaint and interest- 
ing, but the boys were far more interested in the 
people, who looked with curiosity at the yacht and 
in their little dug-out canoes were soon flocking all 
about the anchored “Cormorant.” They were cop- 
per-skinned, straight-haired, and evidently Indians, 
but were dressed in cotton and linen clothes, wore 
Panama hats and seemed decidedly civilized. They 
chatted, laughed and shouted to the boys in Spanish 
and held forth bunches of fruit, fresh fish and live 
birds and monkeys for sale. 

“Where do they get fruit?” asked Harry. 
“They certainly can’t raise it out here in the 
water. ’ ’ 

“They’ve got gardens back on shore,” replied the 
captain. ‘ 4 Dunno why they live on the water. Kind 
o’ inherited the trick from their ancestors, I 
reckon. ’ ’ 

“Ask how much those parrots are, please,” said 
Harry. “I’d like to buy one.” 

‘ ‘ Good chance to try Spanish yourself, ’ ’ chuckled 


200 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


the captain. 1 ‘ You’ve been a learning it. Ask the 
chaps and see if they’ll understand ye.” 

“Good idea,” agreed Mr. Rogers. “Practice 
makes perfect, you know. This is a good chance to 
practice.” 

“All right,” laughed Harry. “I’ll try.” 





Turning toward a boatman, whose canoe-rail was 
lined with parrots and toucans, he addressed the 
fellow in halting, newly-acquired Spanish. 

Instantly the fellow’s face brightened. “Un 
peso V 7 he cried, holding up a parrot. “ Muy manso 
y joven! Puede habla bien !” 

‘ ‘ Hurrah, he did understand ! ’ ’ cried the delighted 
boy. “He says they’re one dollar and very young 
and tame and can talk well.” 

“Bully for you!” cried the captain, slapping 



AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 


201 


Harry on the back. ‘ 4 Afore ye get home ye’ll be 
a-gabbling away in Spanish better than I can.” 

Now that Harry found he could make himself un- 
derstood, Paul tried and was as pleased as his cousin 
with his success and soon, without the captain’s 
help, the boys had purchased a couple of parrots, 
several paroquets and a toucan. 

While they were busy with the bird-sellers a 
canoe, containing several half-naked men, arrived, 
and as it drew near the boys’ attention was attracted 
to an object being towed behind the boat. 

“That’s a sea-cow,” said the captain in reply to 
the boys’ eager questions. “Manatee’s the proper 
name for the critter. Natives think a heap of ’em 
for food and the hide’s worth considerable.” 

“How do they kill them?” asked Paul. 

“Sometimes they net ’em, but most generally they 
spear ’em. Like to go on a sea-cow hunt? Reckon 
we can get these chaps to take us along if ye want.” 

‘ ‘ That would be fine ! ’ ’ cried Harry. 4 1 Do try and 
get them to take us. ’ ’ 

Calling to the manatee-hunters the captain held 
a short conversation with them, little of which the 
boys could understand. 

“It’s all right,” announced the captain at last. 
“He says it’s too late to-day, but if we’ll stop here 
over night he’ll take us on a hunt first thing in the 
morning.” 


202 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“ Shall we take our guns along f ” asked Paul. 

“Ye won’t need ’em for manatee,” replied the 
captain. ‘ ‘ But maybe ye ’ll get a sight of something 
else. I’ll just ask this lad and see if there’s any 
hunting about.” 

“Reckon we struck just 
the right spot for a bit o’ 
sport,” said the captain 
after another conference 
with the native. ‘ ‘ J ose yon- 
der says he can take ye into 
the hush along the river and 
ye’ll likely get a shot at a 
‘danta’ or maybe at a 
‘zorro’.” 

“What are ‘dantas’ and 
‘zorros’T’ asked Harry. “I never heard of them 
before.” 

“ Danta ’s another name for tapir,” replied the 
captain. “The ‘zorro ’s’ a kind of wild cat — ocelot, 
I believe ’s the proper name for ’em.” 

“Hurrah!” shouted the boys. “We’ll have a fine 
time. Won’t we have a story to tell when we go 
home ? Going hunting with real Indians in the South 
American jungles.” 

“What do you say to taking the dinghy and run- 
ning alongshore and trying to get a few ducks for 



AMONG THE LAKE DWELLERS 


203 


supper/ ’ suggested the captain. 4 ‘Roast duck’ll 
taste pretty good,” he added. 

Water-fowl were abundant in a neighboring 
swamp, the natives said, and in less than two hours 
the boys secured enough ducks for a meal. These 
were turned over to Rami and the party then spent 
an interesting hour visiting the strange village near 
at hand. 

They found the natives pleasant, courteous and 
hospitable, but living very simple lives, and the boys 
were greatly amused when in some of the houses 
they found the wattled walls plastered with pages 
from illustrated magazines and the gay-colored 
comic supplements of Sunday newspapers. 

“That’s the most incongruous sight I’ve ever 
seen,” declared Mr. Rogers. 

“Old Ojeda ’d be a bit surprised to drop in and 
see such things, I’ll wager,” said the captain with 
a hearty laugh. “These chaps know a good thing 
when they see it, even if they do go on living in 
houses on stilts. Just look yonder.” He pointed to 
a shelf in one of the huts. 

“Well, of all things!” exclaimed Paul. “That’s 
an alarm clock.” 

It was perfectly true; a nickel alarm clock was 
ticking merrily in the lake-dweller’s home. 


CHAPTER XII 


HARRY’S ADVENTURE 

It was still dark when the boys were aroused by 
the captain, who told them that Jose and the mana- 
tee hunters were alongside the yacht. 

Early as it was, Rami had a steaming pot of cof- 
fee, hot muffins and fried fresh fish ready, and the 

boys, after eating a 
hearty, though hasty, 
breakfast, felt ready 
for anything. 

As the big dug-out 
canoe was paddled 
rapidly through the morning mist that hung above 
the calm water of the lake countless sounds of awak- 
ening life issued from the jungle-covered shore a 
few rods away. Screams of macaws, the strange, 
half-human notes of parrots, the hoarse croaks of 
ibis and herons mingled with the whistles, songs and 
calls of other birds, while the chattering of monkeys, 
the occasional splash of leaping fish or plunging 
turtles and the grunt of a wild pig added to the 
strange noises which proved the abundance of wild 
life all about. 



204 


HARRY’S ADVENTURE 


205 


Presently the canoe entered a narrow channel 
or creek with close-growing vegetation on either 
hand. The boys were qnite excited over the many 
strange birds which perched in the trees, swam or 
waded in the water or 
flew overhead, but at a 
signal from one of the In- 
dians ceased their chat- 
ter and maintained an 
absolute silence. 

Soon the banks receded 
and the canoe shot out 
upon a small pond or lagoon surrounded by man- 
groves and giant rushes. 

Suddenly Jose, who had been peering intently 
about, pointed to the water near at hand and the 
boys, following his gesture, noticed a number of 
pieces of water-weeds floating on the surface — an 
indication, they were told later, that a manatee was 
feeding on the bottom. 

Instantly the Indians ceased paddling and the 
canoe rested motionless upon the glassy water. 

Some minutes passed in silence and then from a 
little cove among the trees ahead there was a great 
splash and a loud bull-like bellow followed by a hiss- 
ing, as of escaping steam. The boys gave an invol- 
untary start at the strange sounds and at the same 
instant the paddles struck the water and the canoe 



206 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


shot forward into the cove, for the Indians knew 
that the noise was made by a manatee as he came 
up to “blow.” 

As the boys came within sight of the waters of 
the cove a widening ripple wrinkled its surface and 
while the men urged the canoe forward with slow 
and cautious strokes of their paddles Jose rose in 
the bow and stood with 
poised spear scanning 
the water. Everywhere 
bits of water-weed were 
floating on the surface 
and presently Jose 
raised his hand. At the 
signal the paddles ceased 
moving and the canoe glided forward, and looking 
ahead the boys saw little silvery bubbles floating on 
the dark water. As the bow of the canoe reached 
these the long-handled spear of the hunter flashed 
down and buried half its length beneath the surface. 
With one accord the Indians backed water furiously, 
while Jose rapidly uncoiled and tossed overboard the 
light “bush rope” attached to the harpoon. Hardly 
was the forward motion of the canoe checked when 
the spear-haft projecting from the water sprang 
forward as if endowed with life. For a few yards it 
rushed onward, and then, the line coming taut, it 
bent like a bow; the rope snapped from the water 



HARRY’S ADVENTURE 


207 


with a humming twang and the light canoe jerked 
forward a dozen feet, almost throwing the boys 
from their seats. For several minutes the canoe 
rushed through the water, drawn this way and that 
by the stricken manatee. Then the line slackened 
and instantly the men commenced dragging it in. 

1 1 They Ve got him ! ’ ’ exclaimed Harry. ‘ * My, but 
didn’t he make things hum!” 

Both hoys half rose to catch the first sight of the 
quarry when it was hauled in, when suddenly, with 
a bellow and splash, the creature broke from the 
water within six inches of the boat and, with a 
mighty hiss, again sank out of sight. 

The two boys tumbled head over heels into the 
bottom of the canoe at the unexpected apparition, 
and almost upset the frail craft, and both joined in 
the laughter of the Indians at their momentary 
fright. The canoe was now being towed forward 
once more by the manatee, hut the speed steadily 
lessened, and each time the line slackened the sea- 
cow was drawn closer to the boat. In half an hour 
from the time he was first struck the big creature 
had become exhausted with his struggles. He was 
drawn alongside the canoe, and was quickly and 
mercifully killed. 

“My, hut he is a big beast,” said Paul, as the 
boys examined the huge amphibious creature. 

“Pretty nigh eight foot long. Reckon he’ll weigh 


208 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


four or five hundred pounds,” commented the cap- 
tain. 

“Are they good to eat?” asked Harry. 

“Fine,” declared the captain. “Some parts of 
the critters taste like pork, other parts like beef 
and some parts just like fish. We’ll have a bit 
cooked aboard the yacht, so you lads can say ye’ve 
eaten sea-cow. The file’s 
worth a heap, too, and the 
hides bring good money. 
Some o’ the bones are hard 
as ivory, and altogether a sea-cow’s a pretty good 
catch for these folks.” 

“It was certainly exciting while he towed us 
about,” said Paul. “Are they going to try for an- 
other ? ’ ’ 

“Jose says it’s no use,” replied the captain, after 
a short conversation with the hunter. “Says as 
how every sea-cow hereabouts will ’a’ been scared 
off by the blood and racket of this chap. If you’d 
like to go on a bit of a hunt, he says he’ll tie this 
cow to the shore and take ye up the creek to some 
bush where we’ll likely find game.” 

The boys were highly elated at this, and as soon 
as the manatee had been towed close to the shore 
and safely secured to a tree the canoe was headed 
up one of the many small creeks that led inland 
from the lagoon. 



HARRY’S ADVENTURE 


209 


For a mile or two they followed the stream, wind- 
ing back and forth, twisting and turning, through 
a perfect labyrinth of channels bordered by swamps 
overgrown with mangroves, vast stretches of grass 
and rushes, and masses of strange, broad-leaved 
water-plants. Water-fowl of many species were 
seen; turtles sunned themselves on tree-trunks and 
logs ; a crab-eating opossum scrambled up from the 
edge of the water to stare at 
the passing canoe, and once 
the boys caught a glimpse 
of a big creature which 
looked like a giant guinea- 
pig, and which the natives said was a “paca.” 

Gradually the banks became less swampy; man- 
groves gave way to palmettoes, cedars and various 
forest trees; the shores became firm and dry, and, 
at last, running the canoe onto a sandy beach, Jose 
announced that they had reached the right spot for 
a hunt. 

After a short consultation it was decided that the 
two boys should separate, each accompanied by one 
of the Indians, while the captain remained at the 
canoe, as he declared he was too fat and too easily 
‘ ‘ winded ’ 1 to go hunting through the bush. 

Although the boys knew but very little Spanish, 
yet they could speak and understand enough to serve 
their purpose they felt sure, and in high spirits they 



210 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


stepped off into the jungle with their native com- 
panions. 

Jose accompanied Harry, and led him rapidly into 
the bush, peering intently on every side, and fre- 
quently stooping to examine tracks in the soft earth. 
For some time the two pressed onward, seeing noth- 
ing but birds, an occasional monkey, and a little 
troop of coatis, which interested Harry greatly. 

Suddenly, as they crossed a tiny open space near 
a small stream, Jose grasped Harry’s arm and 
pointed to a queer imprint in the damp soil. 

“Danta,” he whispered. 

Carefully examining the track of the tapir, he then 
pointed to the dense growth of cane and grass which 
bordered the stream, and indicated that the tapir 
was within it. A narrow trail of broken and tram- 
pled canes indicated where some creature had 
passed through the brake, and by simple words and 
signs Jose told Harry to proceed slowly along this 
trail, while he (Jose) entered at another spot and 
endeavored to drive the “danta” toward the boy. 

Following these directions, Harry stepped into 
the runway, with gun ready, and moved silently and 
cautiously along, while a short distance to the right 
he could hear Jose crashing through the thick 
growth. 

Presently the sounds of the Indian’s passage grew 
faint and indistinct, and the silence of the canebrake 


HARRY’S ADVENTURE 


211 


was only broken by the faint cbirp of insects and 
the rustling of lizards among the dead reeds. 

Coming to a small open space, Harry noticed a 
number of footprints in the trail and stopped to 
examine them. He was bending forward, looking 
intently at the tracks, when he was startled by a 
tremendous crash among the canes behind him. 



Whirling about, he was just in time to see a huge 
black head, with tiny wicked eyes, stiff, bristling 
mane and long wrinkled snout, burst through the 
jungle within a yard of where he stood. To the 
startled boy the creature seemed as big as an ele- 
phant, and involuntarily he gave a little cry. The 
tapir, intent on escaping from Jose in his rear, was 
rushing blindly forward, and became still more ter- 
rified when he caught sight of Harry and heard his 
cry of surprise and alarm. Instantly the frightened 
creature tried to stop and turn back, but the ground 


212 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


was soft and slippery, and in trying to check him- 
self the big beast slid forward, stumbled, plunged 
full into Harry, and together the frenzied tapir and 
an equally frightened boy rolled head over heels in 
the mud and grass. Almost instantly the tapir re- 
gained its feet, and, snorting loudly, dashed off 
through the brake, while Harry rose from the muck 
and roared with laughter at his odd adventure as 
he wiped the mud from his face and clothes. 

A moment later Jose appeared, and while Harry 
could not well explain what had occurred, the In- 
dian’s quick eyes took in the surroundings at a 
glance, and he laughed as heartily as Harry when 
he realized how the hunted had actually knocked 
down the hunter and had escaped. 

J ose then led Harry around the canebrake toward 
a low ridge or hill, covered with thick brush and with 
a patch of forest beyond. An old abandoned road 
led up the slope, and turning a sharp curve in this 
path, Harry, who was some distance ahead, caught 
a glimpse of a large dark animal as it disappeared 
in the brush. Instantly the boy threw his rifle to 
his shoulder and fired. A scream of rage followed 
the report, and Jose, hurrying up, cried excitedly: 
“Tigre, tigre!” 

The shot had evidently missed, for the crashing of 
the brush showed the animal was dashing toward 
the forest, and Harry, jumping upon a fallen tree, 


HARRY’S ADVENTURE 


213 


fired shot after shot into the growth, where it 
swayed and moved as the creature leaped through it. 

Jose was examining the spot where Harry had 
first caught sight of the animal, and now called to 
the hoy and pointed to great footprints in the soft 
earth and to a few drops of blood near the edge of 
the brush. Realizing that he had wounded the crea- 
ture, and unable to grasp but little of the rapid, ex- 
cited volley of Spanish from Jose, Harry pushed 
forward through the jungle with the Indian at his 
heels. 

The broken branches, drops of blood and an occa- 
sional footprint, made the trail of the wounded ani- 
mal easy to follow ; but when the edge of the woods 
was reached all traces were lost, and Harry looked 
to right and left, while J ose stooped close and scru- 
tinized the hard earth for signs of footmarks. Sud- 
denly a bit of bark dropped from overhead, and 
Harry glanced up quickly. As he did so he gave a 
little gasp, his knees trembled, and the hair tingled 
on his scalp. He had good reason to be frightened, 
for upon a horizontal limb, within a dozen yards of 
where he stood, crouched a lithe, dark form, with 
gleaming yellow-green eyes, and great white teeth 
bared in a savage snarl. For a brief instant Harry’s 
blood seemed frozen in his veins, and he stared mo- 
tionless at the ferocious creature above him. Then, 
as the tail of the great cat twitched and the muscles 


214 * 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


rippled under the satin-like skin, the spell was 
broken, and with a single motion the boy raised his 
rifle and fired. 

Even as he pulled the trigger Harry saw the crea- 
ture spring, and instinctively he threw himself to 
one side. The report of the rifle, a warning yell 
from Jose, and an unearthly scream rang simul- 
taneously in the boy’s ears as he tripped and fell 
sprawling over a projecting root. Quickly he sprang 
to his feet, grabbed up his rifle and whirled about, 
but all danger was past; the great black creature 
was stretched lifeless upon the earth, and about it 
Jose danced and shouted as if bereft of his senses. 

Harry stepped forward and looked with wonder 
and admiration at the strange animal from which 
he had so narrowly escaped. Fully nine feet in 
length, lithe, black as night, and with the sheen of 
watered silk upon its inky fur, it was a beautiful 
creature, and different from anything the boy had 
ever seen. 

“What is it?” he inquired of Jose, who had now 
calmed down and was preparing to skin the animal. 

“Tigre, senor,” replied the Indian. “Tigre negro 
— tigre mas grande y feroz. Que buen tiro t” (“Ti- 
ger, sir. A black tiger — the biggest and fiercest of 
tigers. What a fine shot!”) He drew a sharp, 
whistling breath of admiration. 

Harry was puzzled. He remembered that Cap- 


HARRY’S ADVENTURE 


215 

tain Perkins had told them that the natives called 
jaguars 1 1 tigers,” but jaguars he had always 
thought were spotted, while this magnificent crea- 
ture was black as coal. However, if Jose said ’twas 
a black tiger, that was sufficient, and now that the 
excitement was over he was so elated at his prowess 
and success that he gave thought to little else. Jose 
soon had the great cat skinned, and, rolling the hide 
into a bundle, he led the way back toward the boat. 

Presently Harry heard the distant report of a 
gun, and wondered what success Paul was having. 
It seemed a long way to the creek, and Harry was 
quite hot and tired when at last they heard voices 
ahead and a moment later emerged from the jungle 
and reached the rest of the party beside the canoe. 

“What luck, lad?” cried the captain. “PauPs 
not come in yet. Heard him shoot a little spell 
back. ’ ’ 

“What did you shoot?” asked Mr. Rogers. 

“Here’s what I got,” said Harry, pointing to the 
skin, which Jose now unrolled. “I don’t know what 
’tis, but Jose says it’s a ‘tigre negro.’ ” 

The captain glanced at the great black skin, 
opened his mouth and blinked. 

“Lor’!” he exclaimed. “Lor’, Lor’! Why, lad, 
that’s the all-firedest, whopping black tiger I ever 
saw. Lor’ bless me! If I’d a thought there were 
any such critters about here I’d never have let ye go 


216 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


off into the bush. Why, lad, ye might ’a ’ been killed 
by him.” 

“He came pretty near getting me,” said Harry. 
He then related the story of the hunt, to which the 
captain and Mr. Rogers listened intently until inter- 
rupted by Paul’s arrival. 

“I shot a wild cat and a peccary,” shouted Paul, 
as he came in sight of the others. “What did you 
get, Harry?” 

“Come and see for yourself,” replied his cousin. 
“Here ’tis.” 

“Whew!” cried Paul, when he saw the black skin. 
“Isn’t that a beauty? What is it? A black jaguar, 
you say. My, what luck! How did you get him? 
Do tell us all about it. ’ ’ 

Harry again told his story, while J ose stood near- 
by and related his version to his fellow Indians. 

“What a bully adventure!” exclaimed Paul, when 
Harry had finished. “ I ’ll bet you were scared when 
the tapir knocked you over.” 

“Not as scared as when I looked up and saw this 
beast and tried to shoot him on the wing,” said 
Harry. “I’ve often heard of people’s hair standing 
on end, but I never knew how it felt before.” 

“And that chap we bought the skins from said 
there weren’t any jaguars near here,” said Paul. 

The captain called to Jose and asked him a few 
questions. 


HARRY’S ADVENTURE 


217 

“ Jose says that’s the first tiger that’s been killed 
hereabouts in years. Well, well! Ye’re a lucky 
chap, lad.” 

Paul’s wildcat was a beautiful, spotted creature, 
nearly four feet long, and at any other time would 
have filled the youthful hunters with pride, but it 
paled into insignificance beside the big jaguar. 

“I thought I was having fine luck,” remarked 
Paul, as the party reentered the canoe for the return 
trip. 1 ‘ But you’ve beaten me completely. I’m glad 
that old tapir knocked you over,” he added with a 
laugh. “If you’d shot him too I’d feel like ‘thirty 
cents,’ as we used to say.” 

“You’ve both done finely and have had exceptional 
luck,” said Mr. Rogers. “I’m glad I didn’t realize 
the danger you were in. I should have been wor- 
ried every moment you were away.” 

“Seems to me this treasure hunting’s turning into 
a big game hunt,” remarked the captain. “Plenty 
of old hunters would give their boots to get what 
you two boys have.” 

Paddling back to the yacht with the manatee in 
tow was slow work, and it was nearly nightfall when 
at last they reached the village and boarded the 
“Cormorant.” 

The boys’ adventures were retold to Tom and the 
sailor Henry, and Rami even forgot his pots and 
pans long enough to squat down and listen to the 


218 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


tale of the day’s hunt in the South American 
jungle. 

“You’ll certainly never forget Lake Maracaibo,” 
remarked Mr. Rogers. “You’ve had a memorable 
day, but I’ll never feel easy if you go hunting in the 
bush again. That was altogether too narrow an 
escape to suit me, Harry.” 

“Don’t you fret, Rogers,” cried the captain heart- 
ily. ‘ ‘ The lads can take care o ’ themselves, all right 
— regular born adventurers. Lor’, but wouldn’t I 
’a’ liked to ’a’ seen that danta a-bowling Harry 
over. Ha, ha, ha! Golly, Rogers, there’s nothing 
like bein’ a kid, after all.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


IN THE LAND OF BOLIVAR 

Bidding good-bye to their lake-dweller friends the 
following morning, the yacht was headed for the 
open sea some three hundred miles distant. Late 
in the afternoon Maracaibo was passed, with Alta 
Gracia on the opposite side of the narrow entrance 
to the lake, and nightfall found the “ Cormorant” 
upon the waters of the Gulf of Maracaibo. 

The next morning Goajiro peninsula was within 
plain sight to the west, and all through the day the 
northernmost summits of the Andes were visible 
against the western sky. 

By sundown the Punta Gallinas cape was abeam, 
the long swells of the Caribbean rolled beneath the 
yacht’s keel and before a thrashing wind she tore 
onward through the blue water toward Santa Marta. 
Rio Hacha was passed at daybreak, but the captain 
told the boys there was nothing of particular inter- 
est in the town and that he hoped to make Santa 
Marta by nightfall. 

The coast was monotonous and the boys soon 
219 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


220 

grew tired of watching it and devoted themselves to 
studying Spanish, playing with their newly-ac- 
quired pets, and writing letters, telling of their hunt- 
ing experiences, to Mrs. Rogers and their boy 
friends at home. 

Just as the sun sank behind the sparkling sea- 
rim the yacht rounded a tall, rocky point, covered 



with giant cacti, and dropped anchor in the open 
roadstead before Santa Marta. 

In the soft light of the sinking sun the city looked 
very pretty and unreal. The sandy beach with the 
gently breaking surf, the broad savannas, the red- 
roofed houses and the high twin towers of the ca- 
thedral gleamed rosy and golden ; the azure sea took 
on a wonderful purple tint, and far in the back- 
ground the snowcapped peaks of the Sierra Nevada 
mountains glittered like molten metal against the 
deep blue sky. Much to the boys’ disappointment 
they were unable to go ashore that evening, for it 
was too late for the customs boat to come out to 


IN THE LAND OF BOLIVAR 


221 


the yacht and the evening was spent on board the 
“Cormorant.” 

The boys were awakened by the clatter of the ca- 
thedral bells, borne to them on the cool morning 
breeze from the mountains, and went on deck to 
find the revenue boat approaching. 

“Why, I thought Santa Marta was in Colombia,” 
exclaimed Paul; “that boat’s flying the Venezuelan 
flag.” 

The captain laughed. “Look close, lad,” he re- 
plied. “It’s not the same, but I’m not surprised 
ye took one for t’other. They’re pretty nigh the 
same thing.” 

“Well, I can’t see any difference,” declared 
Harry. 

“This one has an oval design with a star in the 
center,” said Paul. “I don’t remember that the 
Venezuelan flag has that.” 

“Right ye are,” cried the captain. “Venezuela 
shows a bunch o’ stars and, besides, the three stripes 
on Venezuela’s flag are all about equal size, while 
Colombia’s has the red on the bottom narrowest and 
the yaller widest.” 

“Why do they have two flags so nearly alike?” 
asked Harry. “I should think it would be very con- 
fusing at a little distance.” 

“Venezuela and Colombia used to be one coun- 
try,” explained Mr. Rogers. “Venezuela has only 


222 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


been a separate republic since 1830, and both na- 
tions have adopted flags as much like the original 
banner as possible.” 

The customs boat was now alongside, the formali- 
ties were soon over, and the boat left the “Cor- 
morant” and headed for a fruit steamer which had 
just arrived in the harbor. 

As soon as breakfast was over the boys boarded 
the launch and the party were soon tread- 
ing the soil of the United States of Co- 
lombia. 

“It looks like an awfully parched and 
barren country,” remarked Harry, as a 
sudden gust of wind whirled a cloud of 
dust from the glaring roadway. 

“I don’t see much except century plants and cac- 
tus,” added Paul. “Do the Colombians raise any- 
thing!” 

“Heaps,” replied the captain. “This particular 
spot’s a bit dry and poor, but of late years they’ve 
been raising a sight of bananas here. United Fruit 
boats come here regular. Back in the interior they 
raise pretty nigh everything — coffee’s the biggest 
crop, bananas come next, and then rubber, cocoa, 
tobacco, woods, and a heap of other things. 
Panama hats make a big item and cattle and 
hides mount up to the millions. Then there’s 
the mines— gold, platinum, silver, and emeralds 



IN THE LAND OF BOLIVAR 223 

come from the mountains. Colombia’s a rich coun- 
try, lads.” 

“Do you suppose we could find emeralds if we 
went into the mountains?” asked Paul. 

The captain laughed. “Lor’, no!” he exclaimed. 
“Emeralds ain’t lying around ready to he picked 
up. Even if ye found a mine ’twouldn’t do ye any 
good. All the emeralds belong to the government. ’ ’ 

“Santa Marta appears to be very old,” remarked 
Mr. Bogers, as they approached the outlying build- 
ings. “It reminds me of the cities in southern Eu- 
rope or northern Africa.” 

“Dunno just how old ’tis,” replied the captain; 
“but ’tain’t been changed much in four hundred 
years, I’ll bet ye.” 

As the boys strolled through the old streets, saw 
the heavy iron gratings on the windows, the massive 
walls of the buildings and the carved and embla- 
zoned doorways, they could almost imagine they 
were back in the days of Cortez and Pizarro. Here 
and there were more modern buildings, telephone 
and telegraph wires were numerous, electric lights 
were everywhere and when the boys caught sight of 
a motor truck and several “Fords” they decided 
that Santa Marta wasn’t so far behind the times 
after all. 

A visit to Bolivar’s birthplace and the old cathe- 
dral completed the sight-seeing and the boys were 


224 < IN MORGAN’S WAKE 

glad to board the yacht, as the air on shore was 
insufferably hot. 

“ Reckon we might as well make Barranquilla this 
evening, ’ ’ remarked the captain. ‘ ‘ That ’ll save sail- 
ing to-night, and we can anchor in the Magdalena. 

Then the next day we can cruise about 
among the reefs and keys a-looking 
for that wreck that’s set down on the 
map. ’ ’ 

By mid afternoon the boys noticed 
that the blue water of the sea had 
turned to a dull and muddy brown. 

“I suppose that’s due to the Magdalena River,” 
said Paul. “I remember ’twas the same way at 
Tobago, and father said it was the mud from the 
Orinoco.” 

‘ ‘Right ye be,” said the captain. “Sometimes we 
can see the color of the river a hundred miles or 
more out to sea.” 

Two hours later they entered the molasses-col- 
ored Magdalena, passed the long pier at Savanilla, 
and, under power, headed up the great river toward 
Barranquilla. 

“What’s the big building up on the bluff?” asked 
Harry as the boys looked shoreward at the little 
town they were passing. 

“That’s the old customs house,” replied the cap- 
tain, with a laugh. “Lor’ knows how they built it 




The massive walls and emblazoned doorways of the buildings. 



Negresses squatted beside piles of vegetables. 






































































. 5 



































IN THE LAND OF BOLIVAR 225 

up there. Reckon it’s handier to the railway than 
the shipping.’ ’ 

“Is there a railway here!” asked Paul. 

“Yes, runs to Barranquilla, about twenty miles 
up the river. This place is just its seaport. Sa- 
vanilla it used to be, but nowadays they call it 



Puerto Colombia. A heap of stuff comes down the 
river and goes through this port. ’ ’ 

“That’s a pretty good sized place,” said Harry, 
as the yacht reached Barranquilla and anchored 
near the dock. 

Rowboats, sailing craft, lighters, tugs and steam- 
ers crowded the river and the boys amused them- 
selves watching the various craft while waiting for 
the customs boat. The shallow-draft, stern-wheel 
steamers interested them greatly, and the captain 
pointed out a vessel which he told them was the 
“Antonio Narino” and which he said was con- 


226 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


structed entirely of native material in the local ship- 
yards. 

4 4 She’s used in dredging and canalization work in 
the rivers,” he explained. 

“Oh, look there!” Harry exclaimed. “Here 
comes an aeroplane.” 

“Well, these people are np to date,” cried Paul. 
“Why, it’s a hydroaeroplane.” 


‘ 1 What in the 
world is that ma- 
chine doing down 
here?” asked 
Harry, as the air- 
craft swept past 
and settled grace- 
fully in a little slip 
near the town. 
“Just down from 
Giradot, I reckon,” said the captain. “There’s 
where the Colombian chaps beat the folks back in 
the States. Got a regular line of those flying ma- 
chines here a-running ’twixt Barranquilla and Gira- 
dot, up the river.” 

“Do you mean they actually use the machines for 
transportation?” asked Mr. Rogers in a surprised 
tone. 

“Dunno as they’re actually a-carrying passengers 
an I cargo,” replied the captain, “but that’s the 



IN THE LAND OF BOLIVAR 


m 


idea. Government’s given a contract to a company 
to rnn a line of the craft over the course. Trip 
takes four days and costs sixty dollars a passenger. 
The government agrees to pay the company eighty 
dollars subsidy for every trip for not more’n ten 
trips a month. I expect that’s about all they’re a- 
getting out of it at present.” 

“That’s great,” declared Harry. “Imagine a 
regular line of aeroplanes clear down here when 
there isn’t anything of the sort at home. The boys 
will never believe that.” 

“This river must form the outlet for an immense 
area of country, judging by the shipping,” re- 
marked Mr. Rogers. “I believe Bogota’s reached 
through this port.” 

“Yes, sir,” answered the captain. “The Magda- 
lena valley’s a rich place and the Cauca valley’s 
just as rich, if not richer. There’s a lot of country 
reached by this river. It’s navigable for six hun- 
dred miles. Still, mighty little of Colombia’s culti- 
vated or settled. It’s a whooping big place— size 
of Germany, France, Holland, and Belgium all rolled 
into one. Most folks don’t have any idea of the size 
o’ the countries down here.” 

“Goodness, I never realized it was so big,” ex- 
claimed Paul. “Colombia and Venezuela don’t look 
big on the maps.” 

“Venezuela’s pretty nigh as big,” replied the 




IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


captain. “But they don’t look big on the maps for 
two reasons. One is that the maps are spread out 
flat. Look at ’em on a globe and they’ll look bigger 
— but the main reason is that South America’s so 
tremendous big these countries don’t make much 
show on it. Most folks seem to think the United 
States occupies pretty nigh the whole 
of the western hemisphere, but, Lor’, 
the whole of the States could be 
dropped into Brazil and leave plenty 
of room for New England, New York 
and a few other states ’round the 
edges. Why, lads, three-fourths of the 
whole New World belongs to these ’ere 
Latin- American chaps and more ’n half 
the inhabitants of the western hemisphere speak 
Spanish or Portugee.” 

“Gracious, I never knew that before,” declared 
Harry. “A fellow learns a lot more by visiting 
these places than by going to school.” 

‘ 1 Right ye are, lad, ’ ’ cried the captain. “ If I was 
a-running a school I’d just pile all the kids aboard a 
ship and take ’em for a cruise ’round the world. 
Bet ye I would.” 

The customs boat had now reached the yacht and, 
as several hours of daylight remained, the party 
went ashore to see the town, for the captain wished 
to leave early the following morning. 



IN THE LAND OF BOLIVAR 229 

Tlie boys found a great deal to interest them and, 
although much of the city was modern, yet many 
portions were old and the streets were thronged 
with people of innumerable races. The stolid-faced 
Indians and the mestizos mingled with blacks from 
the West Indian islands, colored people from every- 
where and whites from nearly every country of 
Europe. Fashionably dressed merchants, daintily 
gowned ladies, and half naked na- 
tive laborers passed and repassed. 

Negresses in bright gowns and 
flaming turbans squatted at cor- 
ners beside little piles of odd vege- 
tables and fruits; barefooted In- 
dians walked silently along carrying poles covered 
with Panama hats for sale ; and brigandish looking 
drivers of pack trains from the interior stopped to 
chat with friends, while their tired animals rested 
by the roadside. 

“Ye’d get a pretty good idea of the folks of the 
whole republic if ye hung about here a spell,” re- 
marked the captain, as they sat down to rest in 
a little plaza. “And I reckon ye could buy pretty 
nigh anything what’s raised, grown, dug or made 
right here in Savanilla. If you boys want some 
Panama hats ye might as well get ’em here. They’re 
dirt cheap and genuine. I always used to lay in a 
stock when over this way.” 



230 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


The boys thought it would be fine to secure some 
real Panamas right in the country where they were 
made and, with the captain’s help, they were soon 
bargaining with a hat-seller. The man explained 
how the hats were woven and in this the boys be- 
came greatly interested. When they again boarded 
the yacht they had hats for themselves and all their 
friends and in addition had obtained a collection 
of hats in all stages of manufacture, from the raw 
straw, which the captain told them wasn’t straw at 
all, but the leaves of a palmetto, to the finished 
hats. 

“I thought Panama hats came from Panama,” 
said Harry, as they walked toward the landing 
place. 

“A lot of ’em do nowadays,” replied the cap- 
tain, “but that isn’t why they’re called Panama. 
All the best of ’em used to come from Ecuador and 
Colombia, but they were shipped out through 
Panama and the Isthmus and got their name that 
way. Late years they’ve been growing the ‘to- 
quilla’ palm in Panama and making some fine hats 
there, but, Lor’, the best of ’em never comes north. 
Why, lads, I’ve seen hats down in Ecuador that sold 
for a hundred dollars each and that soft ye could 
roll ’em up and put ’em in your vest-pocket.” 

“Reckon we’ll be a-hunting about for that wreck 
afore sundown,” remarked the captain as the “Cor- 



Indians with poles covered with Panama hats. 





Drivers of pack trains stopped to chat. 


































































































































































IN THE LAND OF BOLIVAR 


231 


morant ’ ’ dropped down the river the next morning. 

“I hope we have better luck than with the last 
two,” said Paul. 

“We’re almost at the end of the cruise and we 
haven’t found anything,” Harry added in a dis- 
appointed tone. 

The captain’s eyes twinkled merrily as he an- 
swered: “Ye got a pretty good jaunt ahead of ye 
yet, lads. Can’t ever tell what may turn up, ye 
know. We’ve got two wrecks that are on the 
map and we may run across some others for all 
we can tell. Hullo! what’s the matter with old 
Rami?” 

As the captain had been speaking the yacht had 
been approaching a large steamer inward hound 
and as the ship drew close Rami, who stood watch- 
ing it from the galley door, suddenly sprang to the 
rail, brandishing a shining carving knife in his hand 
and commenced shouting wildly at the passing 
steamer. 

“What on earth’s the matter?” cried Paul, as the 
captain and the hoys ran forward. 

“Are you going crazy, Rami?” exclaimed Mr. 
Rogers. 

“Lookee, sahib, lookee!” cried the Hindu ex- 
citedly and pointing to the other ship. “Me see 
tha mon, sar. Lookee, he thar, sahib. Joe on tha 
sheep. ’ ’ 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Everyone turned instantly to look at the steamer. 
“Joe?” exclaimed Harry. “You don’t mean Por- 
tuguese Joe who knocked you down last year?” 

“Yes, sar,” declared Rami. “Me see he on tha 
sheep. Me no mistake, sahib.” 

“Well, I can’t see him,” said Mr. Rogers. 

“Nor can I,” agreed Harry. 

“Reckon the old chap mistook someone else,” 
remarked the captain. 

The boat was now some distance astern, but the 
officers and passengers who had crowded to the rail 
to watch Rami’s strange and threatening antics 
were still looking back curiously at the yacht. 

Rami persisted in his statement that Joe was 
aboard the steamer and declared he had seen him 
staring down over the ship’s forecastle rail at the 
yacht. 

“Some time, bimeby, me cartch tha mon, mebbe,” 
said the Hindu. 

“What will you do then?” Harry asked, half jok- 
ingly. 

For answer Rami picked up the big carving knife 
and drew it suggestively across his throat. 

“Whew! you are a revengeful old chap,” ex- 
claimed Paul. “Better not do that, Rami. Just 
get those sinewy arms of yours around him and 
holler for help. Then we’ll get him locked up where 
he belongs.” 


IN THE LAND OF BOLIVAR 


233 


“Yes, sahib Paul. Me do like you tell mos’ surely, 
sar,” replied Rami obediently as be resumed bis 
duties in the galley. 

“I reckon old Rami may be right after all,” re- 
marked the captain thoughtfully. “Been having a 
sort of feeling that Portugee scalawag was a-going 
to cross our hawse some time. Well, I’m not going 
back to find out. Good riddance to him, I say.” 

“It’s lucky for him that Rami didn’t get hold of 
him,” said Paul. “The old fellow hasn’t forgotten 
or forgiven Joe for knocking him in the head down 
at Grenada.” 

Tom at the wheel had remained silent, but now, 
touching his cap, he spoke : 

“Beggin’ your pardon, sir,” he said, “the bloom- 
in’ Hindu’s a-tellin’ of the Gospel truth. I ’appened 
to cast me weather eye on the bally ship an’, blow 
me, if I didn’t see the Dago a monkey-facin’ over 
the bul’arks meself. I ain’t like to be mistook, sir; 
’twas me fetched him out o’ the bloomin’ whale 
boat, if ye mind.” 

“We’ll have to admit Rami was right then,” said 
Mr. Rogers. “I suppose it’s not so remarkable a 
coincidence after all.” 

Just before noon some small islands were sighted 
and the captain, after referring to his charts, an- 
nounced that it was among these that the wreck of 
the treasure ship was supposed to be. 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


The spot was full of rocks, submerged reefs and 
islets and the * ‘ Cormorant” was stripped of canvas 
and run slowly ahead under her motor. At last a 
sheltered deep anchorage was found behind a cay, 
the launch was lowered and, filled with suppressed 
excitement, the boys, with Mr. Rogers and the cap- 
tain, started forth to search for the ancient wreck. 


CHAPTER XIV 


A REMARKABLE COMBAT 

Iir many places the water was clear and the bot- 
tom could be seen plainly, but in other spots masses 
of dark waving weeds and swift-flowing currents 
made it difficult to distinguish objects a few feet 
beneath the surface. 

Back and forth among the islets and reefs circled 
the launch, the boys, Mr. Rogers and the captain 
peering intently over the sides of the boat. 

“Whew! what was that?” exclaimed Paul as a 
great, dark shadow glided out of sight behind a 
submerged reef. 

“Shark, I reckon,” answered the captain. 
“Yes,” he added a moment later, “yonder’s another 
of the critters.” 

“Are they man-eaters?” asked Harry. 

“Dunno,” replied the captain. “Like as not they 
be. There’s plenty of ’em and to spare ’round these 
parts.” 

“No diving after wrecks for me,” announced 
Paul. “I don’t want treasure badly enough to go 
down among sharks.” 


235 


236 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Captain Perkins laughed gaily. “Lor’ bless your 
soul/’ be cried, “the fish won’t hurt ye — leastways 
when ye’re a wearing of a diving suit. They’re a 
heap more scared of a diver than a diver ’d be of 
them. ’ ’ 

Several more sharks were seen, but they ap- 
peared very timid and swam out of sight at the 
approach of the boat. 

“I always thought sharks followed a boat about, 
ready to snatch anyone that tumbled overboard,” 
said Harry. 

“That’s just yarns,” declared the captain. 
“Sometimes they’ll follow after a ship or a boat, 
but it’s just for the sake of picking up bits of gar- 
bage and stuff that’s tossed overboard. Why, I’ve 
been living down the islands for years and I’ve 
never known of a genuine case of a man being 
touched by the critters. Of course, folks have been 
eat; but if a chap keeps a moving in the water the 
fish’ll most generally leave him alone. They’re 
cowardly critters and pretty slow when they try to 
turn over to bite. I’ve seen the natives dive right 
down among ’em and shove ’em right and left with 
their hands and feet.” 

“Well, they give me the shivers. I hate the 
beasts,” declared Paul. 

The launch was now approaching a small, sandy 
island and everyone was looking carefully at the 


A REMARKABLE COMBAT 


m 

smooth, white bottom far below. They were so in- 
tent npon their search that they failed to notice a 
small sailboat anchored in a tiny cove with a colored 
man fishing from the side nntil they were startled at 
the sound of his voice. 

“ Arfternoon, sahs,” he called. “S ’archin’ fo’ 
somethin’, sahs?” 

“Why, he’s speaking English,” exclaimed Paul in 
surprise, as they caught sight of the negro. 

The darky grinned. “Ah surely is, sah,” he 
chuckled. “Yo’ didn’t think Ah was a Spaghetti, 
sah, did yo’? No, sah, Ah’m from Turk’s Islan’, 
sah. Yo’ a-huntin’ fo’ brain-stone (coral), sahs?” 

“No, we’re looking for a wreck,” said the cap- 
tain. “Ever seen one hereabouts a-lying on the 
bottom?” 

“S ’archin’ fo’ a wrack,” repeated the negro. 
“No, sah,” he continued, “Ah cawn’t say Ah knows 
o’ one ’sactly here ’bout, bass. Larng o’ Perro Key 
Ah’s cotched sight o’ one, sah.” 

“Where’s Perro Key?” inquired Captain Per- 
kins. 

“Just there, sah,” replied the darky. He pointed 
to the west. 

“How far away — how long a row? Can you show 
us where ’tis?” asked the captain. 

“Ah ’spect it’s ’bout two hours’ row, sah,” re- 
plied the fisherman. “Lak as not yo’ll mak’ it in a 


238 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


hour o’ less with da big boat, sah. Ah surely can 
guide yo’ there, bass.” 

“You’re sure there’s a wreck there*?” demanded 
the captain. “Never seen one around these ’ere 
reefs'?” 

“Ah been a-fishin’ here ’bout for mos’ two years, 
sah,” replied the negro, “an’ Ah never cotched 
sight o ’ a wrack in arl that time, ’ceptin ’ over larng- 
side Perro Key, bass.” 

“All right, boy,” said the captain, “hitch your 
boat to the launch and come aboard the yacht and 
we’ll run over to Perro Key. Reckon that’s the 
wreck we’re a-looking for.” 

They were soon aboard the yacht, the anchor was 
raised and with the black man at the wheel the “Cor- 
morant” was headed among the reefs. 

“Sure ye know how to handle the yacht without 
a-running her aground?” queried the captain. 

The colored man grinned. “ Ah’m a Turk’s Islan’ 
boy,” he replied proudly, as if that set at rest all 
doubts of his skill as a pilot. Then after a moment 
he added, “Ah ’spect yo’re jus’ a tryin’ to humbug 
me, Cap’n Frank.” 

The captain gave a start of surprise and stared 
at the strange darky. 

“Who are you callin’ Cap’n Frank?” he de- 
manded. “How do you know my name, you scala- 
wag?” 


A REMARKABLE COMBAT 


239 


The negro grinned. “Ah been thinkin’ Ah 
knowed who yo’ was,” he replied. “Ah jus’ mak’ 
sure now, bass. Yo’ surely are growed corp’lent, 
Cap’n, sence Ah was yo’ boy on tha ol’ ‘Orima.’ ” 
“Lor’!” exclaimed the captain. “You don’t 
mean to tell me you’re Sam Frith? Well, well, well ! 
I’d never ’a’ known ye. 

Why, Sam, last time I saw 
you, ye was just a little lad. ’ ’ 

Turning to the boys, who 
had been interested specta- 
tors of the strange meeting, 
he cried: “Lads, this chap’s 
Sam Frith, used to be my 
cabin boy on the ‘Orima.’ 

Smart boy he was, too.” 

“What ye been doing all these years, Sam?” he 
asked, again addressing the negro. 

As Sam cleverly piloted the “Cormorant” among 
the keys and reefs he told the captain of his wan- 
derings. Tiring of a sailor’s life, he had worked 
at various jobs among the islands, had finally se- 
cured employment on the Panama Canal, and from 
there had come to Cartagena to work on a dredge. 
Then, having saved a little money, he had purchased 
a boat, built a shack at a little village near by and 
had since been leading a happy-go-lucky life rais- 
ing garden truck and fishing. 



240 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


1 1 Thar ’s Perro Key , 9 9 he announced at last. c 1 Jes 9 
drop yo’ anchor, Cap hi, an’ Ah ’ll lead yo’ to tha 
wrack O.K., sah.” 

Directed by Sam the launch threaded its way 
between the reefs to a deep, quiet bay, protected 
on one side by a coral bank and on the other by 
the little islet with its waving palms and tropical 
brush. 

“Larng ’bout here’s tha spot, Cap’n,” said Sam. 
“ Jes look yonder larngside tha big sea-fan an’ yo’ll 
cotch sight o’ tha wrack.” He pointed down 
through the crystal-clear water. 

Looking in the direction he indicated, the boys 
caught sight of the wreck — a mass of coral- 
encrusted, weed-grown timbers which seemed almost 
a part of the ocean’s bed. 

“Hurrah,” shouted Harry. “Now we can really 
go down and look for treasure.” 

“Reckon we’d better be a-getting the diving out- 
fit over here,” said the captain, “no use wasting 
time. ’ ’ 

Then turning to Sam he said: “Plenty o’ water 
for the yacht here, Sam? Can’t we work her in 
close to the wreck? We can’t run the air pump on 
the launch.” 

“Ah ’spect we can, Cap’n,” replied Sam. “What 
yo’ want to humbug with a divin’ suit fo’, sah? Ah ’ll 
be pleased to do tha divin’ if you wish, Cap’n.” 


A REMARKABLE COMBAT 


Ml 


“Hadn’t thought of that,” laughed the captain. 
“Reckon ’twould be a big saving of time and 
trouble. Any rate, you can find out if there’s 
any stuff in the old hulk worth saving. If ye run 
across anything too hefty to get up we’ll use the 
suit. ’ ’ 

Sam commenced peeling off his clothes. “Yo’ 
’spect tha’s treasure down in tha wrack?” he asked 
with a grin. 

“Dunno,” replied the captain. “The lads 
here are on a treasure hunt and we’re searching 
for old wrecks. Ever hear of any treasure here- 
abouts, Sam? Ever been down to this wreck 
afore?” 

“No, sah,” replied Sam, as he balanced himself 
on the gunwale of the boat. The next second he 
had slipped into the water with scarce a splash and 
the boys watched him as, with long strokes, he swam 
downward to the wreck. 

Presently he reached it, swam slowly about close 
to it, and then his head dipped down and his legs 
turned up and the boys could see nothing but the 
pink soles of his feet kicking at the water while a 
cloud of mud and silt appeared about him. 

“He’s clawing after something,” declared the 
captain. “Here he comes,” he added. As the cap- 
tain spoke the diver turned over and with a frog- 
like kick shot to the surface alongside the launch. 


242 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Shaking the water from his woolly head, he reached 
over the gunwale and dropped some heavy object 
into the boat. 

“What is it?” cried Harry, as he and Paul ex- 
amined the thing Sam had brought up. 

“Dunno,” replied the captain. Drawing his knife 
he commenced knocking bits of coral and shells from 
the strange object. 

Presently a dull green metallic surface was ex- 
posed. 

“ ’Taint treasure, anyhow,” announced Captain 
Perkins. “Copper or bronze, whatever ’tis.” With 
a few more blows of the heavy knife-blade the re- 
maining encrustations were removed. 

“Oh, it’s a bell!” exclaimed Paul. 

“Right ye be,” said the captain. “Old ship’s 
bell. Look here, lads, there’s writing on it.” 

The captain carefully scraped away the verdigris, 
while the boys gathered close, and soon a number 
of letters and figures were revealed. 

“What does it say?” cried Harry. 

“H. M. S. Terrier, A. D. 1809,” read the cap- 
tain slowly. “Shucks!” he exclaimed, “ ’Tain’t a 
treasure ship at all. British sloop-o ’-war. Joke’s 
on us, lads.” He roared with laughter. 

“Well, it’s a mighty interesting relic,” declared 
Harry. “Don’t you suppose there may be some 
money or treasure down there?” 


A REMARKABLE COMBAT 


243 


“Dunno, but I reckon not,” said the captain. 
“Sam can slip down again and have another look 
about. ’ ’ 

Again the negro swam rapidly down; once more 
the soles of his feet were upturned and again he 
bobbed to the surface. 

“Ah found somethin ’,” he exclaimed as he 
reached the boat. “Ah can’ lif ^ it, Cap’n. Jes’ 
parse me a line an’ Ah ’ll go down an’ mek it fas’ 
an’ yo’ll hist it up 0. K.” 

With the coil of light rope he again descended and 
worked steadily over the wreck for some time before 
he again bobbed up. 

“Arl ready, bass,” he announced as he climbed 
into the launch. 

Everyone tailed onto the line and pulled. Slowly 
the line gave and the boys watched curiously to see 
what the object was which they were lifting from 
the wreck of the old British war ship. Presently 
it was alongside and with the boys’ help the cap- 
tain and Mr. Rogers lifted it into the launch. 

“Hurrah, it’s a cannon,” cried Paul, as the long, 
coral-covered object was rolled into the bottom of 
the boat. 

“Well, well! So ’tis!” exclaimed the captain. 
“Any more down there?” he inquired of Sam. 

“Ah ’ll have another s’arch,” replied the darky, 
and for the third time slipped into the water. 




IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


So much coral, mud and sand had now been dis- 
turbed by the diver’s operations that he was scarcely 
visible and the boys had difficulty in distinguishing 
the outlines of the wreck. 

Suddenly a dark moving 
shadow crossed a patch of 
white sandy bottom. 

‘ ‘ Oh ! There ’s a shark ! ’ ’ cried Paul. 

“Look out!” yelled Harry, not stopping to realize 
the diver could not hear him. 

“I do hope he sees it!” exclaimed Mr. Rogers. 

“Lor’! he’s making straight for him,” declared 
the captain. “Must a-been attracted by all that 
coral muck.” 

* ‘ Oh, dear, it will be terrible if he ’s killed ! ’ ’ cried 
Harry. 

“He sees him,” announced the captain. 

All were watching eagerly and they now saw the 
form of the negro shoot to one side as the great 
shadowy fish dashed toward him, and as the shark’s 
belly shone white and the great jaws snapped to- 
gether the diver passed behind the creature and 
bobbed to the surface in safety. 

“Kinder close shave, Sam,” cried the captain 
as the darky clambered into the boat. “Reckon 
I’ll have to take back what I said ’bout the crit- 
ters.” 

“You speak true, Cap’n,” said Sam with a grin. 



A REMARKABLE COMBAT 


245 


“Ah didn’t ’spect a shark-fish a humbuggin’ 
’roun’. ” 

As Sam spoke he reached to his bundle of cloth- 
ing, drew a long sheath-knife from his belt, and 
stepped to the edge of the launch. 

“What are you going to do?” asked Paul. 

The negro grinned: “Ah’m jes’ a-goin’ fo’ a bit 
o’ argumentin’ with tha shark,” he replied. 

“You don’t mean you’re really going down to 
fight with him?” cried Harry incredulously. 

“Ah surely am, bass,” replied the negro, and 
without further ado dropped into the sea. 

“Now you’ll see some fun,” declared the captain 
as Mr. Rogers and the boys peered over the rail into 
the depths. 

“Does that fellow really expect to keep the shark 
off with his knife?” asked Mr. Rogers. 

“No,” replied the captain with a chuckle. “He’s 
a-going to kill him. Those Bahama chaps swim 
a heap better than a shark and shark-fighting’s a 
fav’rite sport with ’em. There comes the critter. 
Look sharp, lads.” 

The boys could see Sam swimming slowly along 
with head and chest well up and the knife gleaming 
in his right hand. A short distance away the great 
shark hung, almost motionless in the shadow of a 
growth of coral. Suddenly, with a sweep of his tail, 
he darted forward, rolled gracefully on his side and 


24 6 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


opened his enormous jaws to seize his expected prey. 
Quick as he was the man was quicker yet and with 
a stroke of his feet he shot beneath the fish, wheeled 
about, grasped one of the shark’s fins with his left 
hand and drove the knife to its hilt into the crea- 
ture’s throat. 

The next instant the crystalline water was red- 
dened with blood, Sam bobbed up to the surface and, 
as he clambered into the boat, the great fish gave a 
few convulsive struggles and slowly floated belly 
upward, stone dead. 

The boys drew long breaths. 4 ‘Whew!” ex- 
claimed Harry. “That was fine.” 

“The most marvelous feat I’ve ever witnessed,” 
declared Mr. Rogers. 

“Pretty neat trick, Sam!” cried the captain. 

The Baliaman grinned and commenced pulling on 
his clothes. “Ah ’spect tha’s no use a goin’ down 
mo’, Cap’n,” he remarked. “Tha blood o’ tha 
shark’ll bring a plenty mo’ ’bout. Ah don’ min’ 
a set-to ’larng one o’ two; but Ah carn’t rightly 
s’arch tha wrack when they’s a humbuggin’ ’bout, 
sah.” 

“No need, Sam,” cried the captain. “Reckon 
there’s no more stuff worth getting anyhow, and 
it’s coming time for us to be leaving.” 

“I’d rather have seen that shark fight than to 
have found treasure,” declared Paul, as the launch 





Grasped one of the shark’s fins and drove the knife into its throat. 
Courtesy The Williamson Brothers Submarine Expedition, Universal Motion Pictures 


















































































































































































A REMARKABLE COMBAT 


247 


was turned around and headed toward the “Cor- 
morant. ’ ’ 

“Well, we’re not empty-handed. We’ve actually 
got some things from the wreck,” said Harry. 
“Besides,” he added, “we may find treasure in 
the next wreck and we ’ll never have another chance 
to see a man kill a shark under water.” 

“That’s the right spirit, Harry,” said Mr. Rog- 
ers. “All the treasure in the Spanish Main isn’t to 
be compared with what you can see and learn on 
such a trip as this.” 

They had now reached the “Cormorant” and 
Sam began to unfasten his boat preparatory to leav- 
ing. 

“Hold on there, you rascal,” cried the captain. 
“Take a turn o’ your painter ’round the after-rail 
and come aboard. We’ll take ye along and drop 
ye right afore your own home.” 

“Thank you kindly, Cap’n,” said Sam with a 
broad grin. “Ah ’ll p’int out tha cove as yo’ parse 
’larng by.” 

A mile or two farther on Sam showed the captain 
the little sheltered cove, with the neat thatched huts 
and green banana trees where he lived and the yacht 
was brought into the wind close to the shore. 

The boys loaded Sam with presents, the captain 
gave him canned goods and other provisions, Mr. 
Rogers presented him with a number of fish hooks 


248 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


and other tackle, and Tom, not to be outdone, handed 
him several plugs of tobacco. At last, with every- 
thing safely stowed in his boat, and with a handful 
of Spanish silver jingling in his pockets, he bade 
his former employer and his friends good-bye and 
started toward the beach, while the “Cormorant” 
heeled to the breeze and sailed onwards toward 
Cartagena. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE TREASURE HOUSE OF SPAIN 

Two hours after leaving Sam the yacht rounded a 
point and the hoys saw the towers, walls and build- 
ings of ancient Cartagena rising above the low-lying 
coast ahead. 

“It looks like a picture of some Oriental city,” 
declared Paul. 

“How de we get to it? 

I don’t see any harbor,” 
asked Harry. 

“Ye’ll have to wait a 
bit afore ye see the en- 
trance,” replied Captain 
Perkins. “It’s beyond those sandy dunes yon- 
der. ’ ’ 

For half an hour the yacht sailed steadily on — 
the city within plain view, but with no sign of any 
passage through the land which separated it from 
the sea. Then, heading straight toward the shore, 
the “Cormorant” ran between two capes and into 
a narrow, tortuous passage. Presently the last turn 
was passed and the yacht entered the most perfect 
harbor imaginable. 



249 


250 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


On the left a low ridge hid the sea beyond, to 
the right the green hills and savannas stretched 
away toward the distant mountains, while in the cen- 
ter was the old Moorish-looking town with its great 
wall rising from the water’s edge, its domes, towers 
and roofs of red Spanish tiles, its softly tinted build- 
ings and picturesque battlements. 

Bright-hued fishing boats, dug-out canoes, sailing 
craft of every description and several large steam- 
ers swung to their 
moorings and lined the 
waterfront and beyond 
all rose verdured hills 
with age-gray forts 
frowning upon the 
peaceful scene below. 

Hardly had the yacht dropped anchor before the 
town when she was surrounded by crowds of canoes 
loaded with oranges, pineapples, mangoes, and 
countless other fruits, while upon the gunwales 
perched squawking parrots, screaming macaws and 
toucans and chattering monkeys. In each craft 
squatted a brown, yellow or black native armed with 
a queer spoon-shaped paddle and each and every 
one jabbered, yelled and importuned the visitors 
to buy his goods until the din was almost deafen- 
ing. 

As soon as they found there was no market for 




Tlie cove 


where Sam lived. 



Creaking ox carts passed along the streets 


































'* 




































































































































































- 















- -* - • 


































THE TREASURE HOUSE OF SPAIN 251 

their wares aboard the yacht the bumboats departed 
and gave their attention to another vessel, while the 
boys — the customs officers having left — embarked 
in the launch and were soon at the landing place 
before the city gate. 

Cartagena was by far the most ancient looking 
city the party had visited, and, although the ruins 
at San Domingo were older, yet there was a heavy, 
substantial and enduring appearance about Carta- 
gena which made it look as 
if it had been in existence 
for all time. 

Unlike the other Vene- 
zuelan and Colombian cit- 
ies they had seen, Carta- 
gena swarmed with blacks, 
and the boys felt as if they 
were once more back in the 
small islands. 

Many of the streets were narrow, paved with 
rough and uneven cobbles and apparently unaltered 
since the days of the first settlement; but many 
others were smooth, wide, and well kept. Creak- 
ing ox carts, mule trains with jingling bells, gaily 
caparisoned equestrians, victorias and carriages, 
motor trucks and automobiles passed and repassed 
on the busier thoroughfares, while electric lights, 
telephones and similar modern improvements 



252 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


seemed incongruous and out of place in this ancient 
stronghold of the Spanish Main. 

“Did the pirates ever attack Cartagena?” asked 
Harry as the visitors came to the big central plaza. 

“Plenty of ’em did,” replied the captain. “Mor- 
gan had a shy at it and Drake took it and held it 
for ransom in 1586. Old Cartagena’s seen more 
hard fighting than most any spot along the Spanish 
Main. ’ ’ 

“Well, just look there!” exclaimed Paul. He 
pointed to a small restaurant on a nearby corner. 

Everyone laughed as they saw the sign which 
bore a gaudy picture of a florid cavalier on a pranc- 
ing horse with the legend, “Cafe Jorge Washing- 
ton,” beneath. 

“Reckon we’ll have to patronize that cafe,” 
laughed the captain. “I told ye these folks thought 
a heap of the Father o’ our country.” 

“Did you know that Washington’s brother had a 
hand in taking Cartagena at one time?” asked Mr. 
Rogers, as they crossed the street. 

“No indeed!” replied Harry. “When did that 
happen?” 

“Back in 1741,” replied his uncle. “He led a 
landing force when the British under Admiral Ver- 
non attacked the place. Mount Vernon was named 
after the old admiral.” 

From the restaurant the captain led the party to 


THE TREASURE HOUSE OF SPAIN 253 

the old Inquisition building, where the ancient rack 
did duty as a window-grating, and where the boys 
saw the cells, instruments of torture and other relics 
of olden times and Spanish rule. 

The catacombs were also visited and the captain 
told the boys that it was rumored that hidden sub- 
terranean passages connected with the various 
forts, convents and Inquisition buildings. 

“Wouldn’t it be fun 
to hunt them up and ex- 
plore them, ,, said Harry. 

“Like as not,” replied 
the captain. “When the 
old pirates and bucca- 
neers took the town the 
folks hid a heap of their 
riches and maybe some 
of ’em were killed or 
carried off and never dug up their wealth. Used to 
be a mighty rich place — ‘ Treasure House o’ Spain’ 
’twas called in those days.” 

“I don’t see how Drake or anyone else ever took 
this town,” remarked Mr. Rogers. “Its harbor is 
so well protected and the city is so thoroughly forti- 
fied that it must have been well nigh impregnable 
in ancient times.” 

“They had a hard job,” said the captain. 
“More’n sixty million dollars was spent fortifying 



254 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


it — but loss of life didn’t count in those days and 
they’d attempt anything if there was a chance of 
loot. At one time the Spaniards stretched a chain 
across t’other entrance to the harbor to keep the pi- 
rates out, but the rascals came in the other way and 
the chain just bottled up the Spaniards’ own ships 
and made ’em easy prey. The old entrance wasn’t 
ever opened again and last time I was here they 
was talkin’ of dredging it out. I reckon they’ve 
been doing a heap o ’ cleaning up and dredging since 
I was here, by the looks o’ things.” 

‘ ‘I hope they never modernize the town,” re- 
marked Mr. Rogers. ‘ 4 It’s bad enough to have mo- 
tor cars, trolleys and electric lights in these hoary 
old places. I can forgive these for their utility, but 
skyscrapers, plate glass windows and department 
stores would rob the place of all its attractions.” 

‘ ‘Reckon you’re right, Rogers,” agreed the cap- 
tain. “But ’tain’t likely they’ll be spoiled during 
your time. I can’t see as they’ve changed much in 
fifty years.” 

“I think these places are mighty interesting,” de- 
clared Paul. ‘ ‘ The only trouble is, ’ ’ he added , 4 ‘ that 
they’re all too much alike. Every one looks differ- 
ent from the sea, but after you’re inside the walls 
the streets, buildings, and people all seem the same. ’ ’ 

“I presume that’s because they were built about 
the same time and by the same people,” remarked 


THE TREASURE HOUSE OF SPAIN 255 


his father. “I noticed the same thing in the West 
Indian towns when I first visited them.” 

“Just the same, I’d hate to miss one of the 
places,” said Harry. 

“ Ye’ve seen all o’ any account along this coast,” 
declared the captain. 

1 1 Where do we stop next?” asked Paul. 

“Down in the On If 



o ’ Darien, ’ ’ replied 
the captain. “We’ll 
try to locate that 
wreck down Ur aha 
way. Then we ’ll run 
along the Isthmus to 
Porto Bello and 
Colon.” 


‘ 4 Then our trip ’s 
nearly over, ’ ’ la- 


mented Paul. 

“What put that idea in your head?” asked the 
captain with a chuckle. 

“Why, we’re going to leave the ‘Cormorant’ at 
Colon, you know,” said Paul. 

“Umm,” muttered the captain. “Reckon ye’ve 
forgotten this ’ere’s a treasure-hunting cruise and 
we’re not running on schedule. Never can tell what 
may happen on a trip o’ this sort.” 

“I believe you’ve some surprise for us, Captain 


256 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Frank!” cried Harry. “I saw yon wink at Uncle 
Charles.” 

“You are an observing lad,” laughed the captain, 
and despite the teasing of the boys he refused to 
say more. 

The boys went ashore for a few hours the next 
morning and then having seen all the places of in- 
terest and after a drive into the outlying country 
and to the forts and convents, they returned to the 
yacht. 

Soon Cartagena was far astern and southward 
along the Colombian coast the “Cormorant” sailed 
onward into the Gulf of Darien. Harry and Paul 
busied themselves with maps and charts, tracing 
their course and talking over the many places they 
had seen. 

“The Gulf of Uraba seems to be a sort of out-of- 
the-way spot,” remarked Mr. Rogers, who was also 
studying the map. 

‘ ‘ Have you ever been there, captain f ’ ’ asked Paul. 

“Never have,” replied the captain. “No ports 
worth speaking of down there, but I reckon I won’t 
get lost. ’ ’ He laughed gaily. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean that,” said Paul. “I thought 
perhaps you could tell us something about it — 
stories of the pirates or something of that sort.” 

“Dunno much about it, aside from that old wreck 
being marked on the chart; but I’ve heard it used 


THE TREASURE HOUSE OF SPAIN 257 


to be a great spot for pirates to hang out in. Mighty 
handy to both Cartagena and Porto Bello. Those 
were the great shipping ports for treasure in those 
days. ’ ’ 

“Was Porto Bello attacked by pirates ?” asked 
Harry. 

“Lor’ bless your heart, yes,” cried the captain. 

“Do tell us all about it,” begged Paul. 

“All right, lad,” said 
the captain. “There’s 
nothing particular to do 
just now and I’ll tell ye 
all I know about the 
place. ’ ’ 

“Ye see,” he commenced, “all the gold and treas- 
ure o’ the west coast was packed across the Isthmus 
to be shipped off to Spain. Panama was the Pacific 
port and Porto Bello the shipping place on the At- 
lantic side. From one of the towns to the other was 
just a rough trail, but such a heap o ’ treasure was 
brought over that road that folks called it the ‘ Gold 
Road.’ Lor’ knows how much wealth was carted 
over the old trail on muleback, but I’ve heard that 
the ransom o’ the Incas over in Peru was toted over 
the trail and was worth over ten million dollars and 
that was just a mite of all that was carried across. 
Sometimes as many as forty galleons were lying in 
Porto Bello harbor at one time, and the commerce 



258 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


of the Isthmus amounted to two or three hundred 
million o’ dollars a year. After a spell the pirates, 
who had been a-seizing the treasure ships on their 
way to Spain, got tired o ’ such pickings and decided 
to go straight to headquarters and grab the gold 
afore ’twas shipped. That’s the way they did with 
La Guaira, Cartagena and other spots, and finally 
they made up their minds to tackle Porto Bello and 
Panama. Old Morgan was the chap who did it and 
he had a pretty tough job at that. Think of a crew 
o’ sailormen a-landing in the enemy’s country, hik- 
ing over the trail across the mountains and through 
swamps and jungles and attacking a fortified city 
on t’other coast. He did it, though, and sacked and 
burnt Panama and got safe back to his ships with 
the treasure. That was along back in 1671, and old 
Panama’s never been built up since. Ye can see the 
ruins of the old buildings there still. Nowadays 
Porto Bello don’t amount to much, ’cepting for the 
ruins; the old Gold Road’s grown over with bush 
and Colon’s the port. Folks that travel across to 
the Pacific and Panama by the railroad or Canal 
don’t think o’ what used to be a-going on in the old 
days. Reckon old Morgan ’d be a bit surprised to 
take a trip over yonder to-day. Bet ye he would.” 

“I’d love to go across the Isthmus,” declared 
Paul. 



Many of the streets were wide and well kept. 



Automobiles seemed incongruous and out of place. 
















































































THE TREASURE HOUSE OF SPAIN 259 


“I’d rather go by the old Gold Road than by the 
Canal,” said Harry. 

“Ye’d find it pretty tough going,” laughed the 
captain. “I reckon the Canal’s better worth seeing 
and a sight more wonderful than the old road. I 
was down to Colon just after the French chaps gave 
up the job and again after the Yankees took hold. 
I tell ye there ’s been some changes made ! ’ ’ 

“Will we have a chance to see the Canal?” asked 
Harry. ‘ ‘ It would be a shame to miss it when right 
at its eastern end,” he added. 

“Its western end, you should say,” said his 
uncle. “Colon is further west than Panama.” 

“That’s so,” said Paul, glancing at the map. 
“Isn’t that funny?” 

“I can tell you something funnier than that,” 
declared the captain. “Ye’ll hardly believe it,” he 
continued, “but up at Colon the sun rises in the 
Pacific and sets in the Atlantic. Reckon it’s the 
only place in the world where that happens.” 

“I think ’twould he fine to really sail through the 
Canal to Panama and see the Pacific,” said Paul. 
“Morgan went across,” he continued, “and if we’re 
following in his wake we ought to go as far as he 
did.” 

“We won’t plan ahead,” replied his father. “We 
still have a wreck to hunt for, you know. You can’t 


260 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


tell what may happen, eh, captain ? ’ ’ He smiled and 
winked at Captain Perkins. 

4 ‘ I would like to know what you two have up your 
sleeves,” exclaimed Harry, “but I suppose it’s no 
use asking. We’ll just have to wait and find 
out.” 

The captain chuckled and rose. “Let’s see where 
we be,” he remarked. “Reckon that’s Santiago 
over yonder. ’ ’ He pointed to a broad bay protected 
by numerous islets. 

“Will we be at Uraba to-night!” asked Paul. 

“We’d fetch the gulf ’long ’bout midnight, if we 
kept a-going,” replied the captain. “Dunno any- 
thing about this ’ere coast, though,” he added, 
‘ ‘ and I reckon we ’ll run in and anchor for the night. 
’Tain’t safe running along a strange coast where 
there’s no lights.” 

Sundown found the yacht safely moored in a 
snug little inlet and with no sign of settlement or 
human habitation to break the vast forest that 
stretched from the shores to the mountains of the 
interior. 

“It’s like a new and unexplored land,” declared 
Harry. 

“Pretty wild spot,” admitted the captain. 
“There’s quite a bit o’ Colombia that’s not in- 
habited, leastways by civilized folks, and I expect 
there’s a heap that’s not even been explored.” 


THE TREASURE HOUSE OF SPAIN 261 


“Can’t we go ashore for a hunt?” asked Harry. 
6 ‘The woods are just full of birds and animals.” 

“No, sir-r-e-e,” said the captain positively. 
“Yonder bush is a risky spot for a chap without a 
native along. There ’s p’isen snakes a-plenty, not to 
mention Injuns, what might be a-hanging about 
with blow-guns looking for a chance to pot ye.” 

“Oh, you’re just joking,” said Paul. “There 
aren’t really any savage Indians in there, are 
there?” 

“Dunno,” replied the captain. “Maybe there 
ain’t, but I’ve known o’ folks being attacked by ’em, 
and I’m not going to let you lads take chances. 
There ’s plenty of snakes, anyway. ’ ’ 

“Are there many poisonous snakes down here, 
really?” asked Harry. 

“Lor’ bless you, yes,” cried the captain. 
“There’s rattlers, and moccasins and coral snakes, 
and bushmasters and parrot snakes and a lot of 
others.” 

“What are bushmasters and parrot snakes?” 
Paul inquired. 

“Bushmasters are about the worst snakes a-liv- 
ing in the bush,” replied the captain. “They’ll go 
out of their way to bite folks and they’re more 
poisonous than a whole bunch o’ Fer de Lance. 
Parrot snakes are long, slender, green critters. 
They hide in the bush among the leaves and bite 


262 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


anything that comes along. Deadliest snake in the 
tropics, I believe. I once saw a horse bit by one 
and he dropped dead in less than ten minutes.” 

‘ 4 Well, I guess we don’t want to go into the woods 
alone, then,” remarked Harry. 

The boys had become so accustomed to seeing 
wild parrots, gaudy macaws and other feathered 
denizens of the South American forests that the 



flocks of these birds which fluttered among the 
nearby trees scarcely attracted their attention. 
Monkeys, however, always fascinated them, and 
they spent their time until dark watching a troop 
of slender spider monkeys, which were leaping and 
running about in a lofty tree near the creek, seem- 
ingly performing for the boys’ special benefit. As 
soon as darkness fell strange sounds issued from 
the forest and after the boys had gone to bed they 
were awakened several times by the unearthly yells 
of the big howling monkeys that made the night 
hideous with their cries. 


CHAPTER XVI 


RAMI GOES FISHING 

Before the sun had risen the next morning the 
“Cormorant” had slipped out from her anchorage 
and was once more sailing down the long stretch of 
coast. 

About ten o’clock the captain called the boys’ at- 
tention to the dim outlines of land on the western 
horizon. 

“Yonder’s the mountains of Panama,” he said. 
“Just ’round that high point’s the gulf. If the old 
map’s right, we’ll soon be alongside that wreck, 
lads.” 

“Won’t we have trouble in finding it?” asked 
Harry. 

“Dunno,” replied the captain. “ ’Cording to the 
chart, the wreck’s a-lying ’twixt a long, narrow 
island and a reef. Expect her skipper tried to run 
in without seeing the reef and she sunk t’other side 
of it. If we can locate that dumb-bell-shaped key 
it ought to be easy to find the wreck.” 

“Are you sure it’s a treasure ship?” asked Paul. 

263 


264 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“ Goodness, wouldn’t it be splendid to really find 
treasure, after all?” 

“Map’s got it marked down in red,” answered 
the captain. “Treasure bunting’s uncertain,” be 
added. After a moment be asked: “Wbat would 
ye do with treasure if ye did find it ? ” 

“Buy a yacht,” replied both boys with one ac- 
cord. 

“And go a-treasure bunting in ber, I reckon,” 
laughed tbe captain. 

“We’d go cruising to all sorts of places,” replied 
Harry. “But not especially after treasure.” 

“We never thought of treasure bunting until 
Harry found that old pirate map ; but we’ve always 
loved cruising about,” explained Paul. 

“Well, I hope ye find some,” declared tbe cap- 
tain, and with a chuckle added: “If ye don’t get 
enough to buy tbe yacbt ye can have my share and 
welcome.” 

“I’ll promise my share, at any rate,” laughed 
Mr. Rogers. 

“Ob, you two are always poking fun at treasure 
bunting,” said Harry. 

“Just to get even we’ll keep you to that promise 
when we do find it,” announced Paul. 

Tbe course of tbe yacbt was now altered and, 
rounding tbe point, she was beaded due south into 
tbe great, almost landlocked gulf. Carefully watch- 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


265 


in g the coast line and frequently examining the 
charts, Captain Perkins worked the “ Cormorant’ ’ 
slowly along nnder power and towards some small 
islands visible near the western shore. 

“ Reckon that hunch o’ keys is the spot,” he re- 
marked. 

“ There’s the long, narrow island,” cried Harry 
as they approached closely. 

“And there ’s the reef. I can see the waves 
breaking on it,” shouted Paul. 

“Reckon ye’re right,” agreed the captain after 
squinting through his glasses. “We’ll run behind 
this first key and drop anchor.” 

The boys could scarcely wait for everything to 
be made snug and fast before tumbling into the 
launch to start on their search for the wreck. As 
Mr. Rogers was about to step into the boat Rami 
approached him. 

“Me like cartch tha fish for cookey for breakfas’, 
sahib,” he said with a salaam. “Mebbe, sar, the 
capt’n sahib permit Rami take leetle boat to cartch 
heem. ’ ’ 

“Course ye can, Rami,” said the captain. “A 
mess of fish’ll taste fine, and the bay’s full of ’em. 
Tom,” he said, turning to the sailor, “give Rami 
the dinghy with a light anchor and plenty o’ line.” 

The launch was headed through a narrow channel 
between the island and the reef, and the boys were 


266 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


soon gazing intently down through the clear water, 
each eager to he the first to discover the ancient 
wreck. It was easy to see bottom; but here and 
there great areas of dark-colored marine plants, 
dense forests of branching corals or rough and cav- 
ernous masses of rock made it difficult to distinguish 
real objects from patches of light and shade. Again 
and again the searchers thought they had discov- 
ered the wreck, only to find that rocks, corals or 
weeds had deceived them, for the refraction of the 
water caused natural growths to assume weird forms 
and shapes, which seemed to hover and drift about 
with the gentle motion of the sea. 

Back and forth they hunted until their necks ached 
and their eyes were strained, and at last, tired, dis- 
appointed and hungry, they abandoned the search 
for the day and headed for the yacht, which was 
out of sight beyond the islet. 

‘ 1 Reckon we ’re bound to go without finding treas- 
ure,” remarked the captain. “This ’ere wreck 
must a-shifted or been grown over if that map’s 
right. Hunting for a needle in a hay rick’s nothing 
compared to hunting a wreck, if the chart’s a bit 
off.” 

“I think it’s an awful shame,” exclaimed Harry. 
“This is the last wreck. Just as likely as not it’s 
the only one that had treasure, too.” 

“We’ll have another look at that chart,” said the 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


267 


captain. ‘ ‘ Try to get the bearings and have another 
search in the morning. Pm not a-going to give up 
and stop you lads from getting that yacht just yet,” 
he laughed uproariously. 

“You can laugh all you please, hut I’ve a feeling 
we’ll find something yet,” declared Paul. 

When they reached the yacht Tom told them Rami 
had not arrived. 

“I seed him roundin’ that there p’int,” said the 
sailor. “Said as ’ow ’e wuz a-goin’ to try ’is luck 
’longside o’ them reefs.” 

“I wonder if we hadn’t best go over and look for 
him,” suggested Mr. Rogers. “Perhaps he may be 
in trouble.” 

“Reckon not,” said the captain. “More likely 
he don’t know how late it’s a-getting. When a 
chap’s a-fishing, time’s no account.” 

“Here he comes now,” cried Paul. 

The others looked where he pointed and saw Rami 
just emerging from behind the low, brushy point of 
a tiny island a few hundred yards distant. He was 
soon alongside the yacht and with a basket full of 
fish climbed to the deck. 

“I see you’ve had good luck, Rami,” said Mr. 
Rogers. “We were just thinking of going after 
you, fearing something was wrong.” 

Rami bowed. “Oh, sahib,” he said. “Rami 
mos’ ver’ mooch sorry, sar. Me larst tha anklor, 


268 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


sar. Me mek to draw he up, sahib, but he not come. 
Me pull mooch hard an’ when fin’ he stuck too well 
me mek to heetch leetle board to rope. Mebbe the 
captain sahib can get he. Me look down an’ see he 
cartch fas’ in one ol’ dead sheep.” 

“ What’s that you say?” cried the captain. 
“ Caught in a ship, you say? Lor’, I’ll bet Kami’s 
found the wreck, lads.” 

“ Hurrah for old Rami!” shouted Harry. 

4 ‘And he’s left it all buoyed so we can find it 
again,” cried Paul. 

“Come along, lads. Tumble aboard the launch. 
We’ll have a look afore dark,” exclaimed the cap- 
tain. “Come on, Rami,” he added as the others 
hurried into the launch. “Ye got to show us where 
’tis, ye old rascal.” 

There was no need of Kami’s help, however. As 
soon as the launch rounded the end of the islet 
everyone caught sight of the bit of board floating 
upon the water and marking the anchor which the 
Hindu had been unable to draw up. 

In a moment they were beside it, the motor was 
stopped and all crowded to the sides of the boat and 
peered over. Rapidly their eyes followed down the 
curving, hempen line that led from the bobbing 
plank to the bottom, which was already growing 
dim with the fading light of the late afternoon. But 
one glance was enough. 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


269 


“It’s a wreck/ ’ shouted Paul. 

I ‘I’ll bet it’s the treasure ship,” cried Harry. 

I I Well, well, well!” exclaimed the captain. 

‘ 1 Rami, you caught quite a fish when you hooked 
that,” laughed Mr. Rogers. 

“Yas, sar. Thank you, sar,” smiled the Hindu. 

“Oh, dear! It’s getting dark so fast we can 
hardly see it,” sighed Harry. 

“No use a-trying to do anything to-night, lads,” 
declared the captain. “The wreck can’t get away, 
and it’s marked so we can find it easy enough. 
Bright and early to-morrow morning we’ll run the 
yacht over here and then for a trip down in the 
diving suit.” 

All that evening the boys could talk of nothing 
but the wreck and they plied the captain with ques- 
tions. Did he think it was the wreck of the treas- 
ure ship? Might it be some other wreck? Did he 
think there would be any treasure in it? Would he 
let them go down ? To those and a thousand similar 
queries the captain replied as best he could as he 
chuckled and laughed, apparently enjoying the ex- 
citement and prospects of exploring the wreck fully 
as much as the boys. 

“I reckon that’s the same wreck we were a-looking 
for,” he said. “Only trouble is the old map’s a bit 
off. It’s a-lying jest the same sort o’ place, ’twixt 
a reef and a bit of a narrow island. Most likely the 


270 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


old chap that made that map got twisted a bit on 
his bearings. Dunno whether it’s a treasure ship 
or not, but we’ll get something out o’ it, I’ll wager. 
Looks like a good spot to go down in, and if every- 
thing works all right I’ll let you lads do some div- 
ing. Water’s pretty shaller there.” 

“Rami will have to get a share of any treasure 
we find,” declared Paul. “If it hadn’t been for 
him we’d never have found the wreck.” 

The others all laughed at the boy’s seriousness. 

“Lor’, lad. Wait till ye get the loot afore ye be- 
gin a-dividing it up, ’ ’ cried the captain. 1 ‘ Of course 
the Hindu ’ll get a share o’ anything there is.” 

The boys were up betimes the next morning and 
as soon as breakfast was finished the “Cormorant” 
was run over to the spot where Rami’s buoy still 
floated at the end of the anchor rope. The yacht 
was moored securely at stem and stern, and while 
the boys looked on with intense interest or helped 
here and there, the air pump was rigged up, the 
diving suit was brought out, the ladder was lowered 
over the side and preparations were made for a 
descent to the wreck. After some consultation it 
was decided to let Tom descend first in order to 
test the suit and apparatus, and with the help of the 
boys and Mr. Rogers the captain soon had the sailor 
encased in the rubber costume. 

“I’ll tend the lifeline, Tom,” remarked the cap- 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


271 

tain as the great helmet was slipped over Tom’s 
head. “ Sorry we haven’t got one o’ them new- 
fangled outfits, with telephone and all, hut ’tain’t 
needed here. Water’s that clear we can see ye all 
the time, and ’tain’t like wandering about through 
hatches and staterooms in new wrecks.” 

“S’lielp me, it’s been so bloomin’ long since I 
wuz down I mos’ forgot ’ow it feels,” remarked 
Tom while the captain made the final adjustments. 

1 1 So long, mates, ’ ’ he cried as the captain started to 
screw the glass face-plate in position. “Look alive 
for a treasure chest a-comin’ up.” 

Everything was now ready; the other sailor and 
Mr. Rogers manned the air pump and the captain 
stood at the rail with the air hose and lines. Tom, 
clambering clumsily down the ladder, released his 
hold and sank slowly down through the transparent 
water, while a tiny line of silvery air bubbles rose 
from his helmet to the surface. The boys watched 
his descent almost breathlessly. 

“He’s on the bottom,” cried Harry at last. 

“He’s walking around the wreck,” exclaimed 
Paul. 

“He’s loosened Kami’s anchor and is tying it to 
the rope,” announced Harry. 

“He’s signaling to haul it up,” said the captain. 
“Reckon he wants to get it out of the way.” 

The boys soon had the anchor on board and again 


m 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


turned their attention to Tom, walking, half stoop- 
ing as divers do, about the ancient coral-encrusted 
timbers far below them. 

“Now he’s digging among the timbers,” cried 
Paul. “I can see him prying with a crowbar. 
Hurrah! he’s found something,” he shouted. “I 
can see him tying a rope to it. ’ ’ 

Again the signal to haul up the rope was given 


’ boys, with Kami’s 
ly drew in the line, 
some heavy object 
anauucu to the other end. 



“It’s a cannon,” exclaimed Paul as the object 
appeared above water. 

“And a mighty old one by the looks of it,” de- 
clared the captain. 

Three more cannons were sent up in rapid suc- 
cession and then Tom signaled that he wished to be 
drawn to the surface. 

“What’s up, Tom?” asked the captain as he re- 
moved the face-plate. “Anything wrong down 
there ! ’ ’ 

“No, sir; nothing wrong, sir,” replied the sailor. 
“Jest come aloft arter a bag for to send these ’ere 
up. Blow me, if I can make ’em fast to the line.” 
He opened his hand and tossed a number of round- 
ish objects upon the deck. 

“They look like sand dollars,” exclaimed Harry 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


273 


as lie stooped to pick up some of the objects. 
“ Goodness/ ’ be cried as he lifted one, “aren’t they 
heavy ! ’ ’ 

The captain had also seized one of the strange 
things, and drawing his knife, scraped away the 
surface. 

“Sand dollars,” he almost shouted. “Ha, ha, 
ha ! Dollars they be, lads ; good old Spanish dollars. 
Gold onzas, lads, gold onzas! 

Ye’ve struck treasure trove at 
last!” Seizing the two boys, 
he danced wildly about the 
deck. 

Still laughing and chuckling, 
he turned to Tom, who sat grinning at the head of 
his ladder. 

* i Many of them down there V ’ he cried. 

“S’help me, yes, sir,” replied the sailor. “Blow 
me if they ain’t a-lyin’ all about where I ’auled out 
that last gun, sir.” 

“Hurrah!” shouted Harry. “Then it’s really a 
treasure ship.” 

“Perhaps they were merely the captain’s private 
money or the ship’s specie,” said Mr. Rogers, who 
had been carefully examining the coins with their 
coating of marine growths. “Don’t be too greatly 
elated,” he continued. “There may be no other 
treasure on the wreck.” 



274 . 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Oh, do let us go down and find them!” begged 
Paul. “We may never have another chance to dive 
after real sunken treasure.” 

“How about it, Tom?” asked the captain. “Do 
you reckon the lads could go down?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied the sailor. “Easy as not. O’ 
course they’ll feel a bit queer first off. There ain’t 
no mite o’ danger, sir. Ye can see ’em all the time 
they’re down.” 

“All right, lads,” cried the captain. “If Rogers 
is willing ye can each go down. I’m not a-going 
to let ye stop long, though. Just pick up what ye 
can and come up. Who’s going first?” 

“Let Paul go first,” said Harry. “He’s the 
older. ’ ’ 

Tom had now been divested of his suit and Paul, 
feeling not a little nervous, commenced putting on 
the rubber clothing. 

“Whew! It’s heavy,” he exclaimed as the mas- 
sive metal collar was placed over his shoulders. ‘ ‘ I 
won’t be able to move.” 

“Ye’ll find it light enough when ye’re under 
water,” the captain assured him. “The suit’s a bit 
full for ye,” he added. “Made big enough for me, 
ye see. But we ’ll lift ye over and drop ye down, and 
ye’ll be all right. Feel scarey?” 

Paul insisted he was not a bit frightened and a 
moment later the face-plate had been screwed on, 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


275 


and the boy in his baggy suit was lifted and dropped 
gently over the side. 

Paul's sensations as he half-floated, half -floun- 
dered downwards were strange and novel, and yet 
he was not at all afraid, but felt quite elated and 
exhilarated as he slowly descended. So gently did 
he land upon the sandy bottom that he scarce knew 
he had reached the bed of the sea. Glancing about, 
he saw the wreck close at hand and looming huge, 
weird and massive in the strange blue light. He 
started towards it, but was instantly lifted from his 
feet and after one or two attempts found he must 
bend forward and maintain a stooping posture in 
order to keep his footing when walking. As he 
came close to the wreck he looked carefully about 
and soon saw the bits of broken coral and water- 
soaked, decayed wood where Tom had dragged 
forth the cannon. Bending close, he caught sight 
of numbers of the little round disks which he knew 
were coins and, dropping to his knees, he hastily 
gathered them up and piled them into the canvas 
bag he had brought down. He was still busy when 
a tug at the line warned him that he must leave the 
fascinating spot and without stopping to think of 
the unusual conditions which surrounded him, he 
rose quickly. Instantly he lost his footing and 
swayed forward towards the wreck. Instinctively 
he threw out his hands, but instead of falling heavily 


276 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


as lie expected, he merely settled among the ancient 
timbers as lightly as a feather. Laughing inwardly 
at the strange sensation, the boy started to regain 
his feet. As he did so his hand came in contact with 
some hard, angular object in the soft, oozy sand, and 
as he grasped it the rope was pulled taut and the 
next instant he was being rapidly hoisted towards 
the surface. As he swayed and turned about he 
glanced up and with the keenest interest noted the 
strange appearance of objects above when viewed 
from under the sea. The round bottom of the yacht 
seemed to occupy an enormous space, the rudder 
and propeller looked huge and long streamers of 
grass and weeds floated from the copper sheathing. 
At the water line the yacht seemed to be cut com- 
pletely in two and the dim, shadowy outlines of her 
upper works and the indistinct figures of the men 
upon her decks looked out of proportion, grotesque 
and entirely separated from the rest of the vessel. 
He seemed to move slowly and with a wonderfully 
soft, resistless sensation, but he had scarce time to 
analyze his feelings when his head emerged from 
the water and he was hauled up and onto the 
deck. 

“How does it feel*?” cried Harry as soon as the 
face-plate was opened. 

“More like a toy balloon being tossed about than 
anything else,” laughed Paul. 



He saw the wreck close at hand. 

Courtesy The Williamson Brothers Submarine Expedition, Universal Motion Pictures 


























































































■ 
















































































































. 










RAMI GOES FISHING 


m 


“Did you find the coins ?” asked Mr. Rogers. 
“Here they are,” answered Paul, holding out the 
hag. “Here’s something else I found.” He ex- 
hibited the angular thing he had picked up. 

The captain took it, hefted it, scratched it with 
his knife and gave a shout. 

“Treasure trove, treasure trove!” he cried. 
“Lads, lads, yonder’s a treasure ship sure enough. 
That bit o ’ stuff ’s a bar o ’ gold bullion . 9 9 

The others crowded eagerly about and examined 
Paul’s find. Although covered with an encrusta- 
tion of small shells, worm tubes and bryozoans, the 
rectangular form was easily seen, and as soon as 
the marine growths were scraped off the metal 
gleamed as brightly as on the day when it was first 
run into a mold, hundreds of years before. 

“Is there more there? How much is it worth? 
Do let me go down!” cried Harry, beside himself 
with excitement. 

“I didn’t have time to hunt,” said Paul. 

“Reckon it weighs about five pound, and at six- 
teen dollars an ounce it’ll be pretty nigh a thousand 
dollars,” replied the captain. 

“Whew!” exclaimed Paul. “A thousand dollars 
in that little thing? What are these gold coins 
worth?” 

“About $17.00 each,” replied Mr. Rogers. “I 
saw some in a money-changer’s at Havana and in- 


278 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


quired about them. Possibly to a collector they 
might be worth more.” 

“Reckon not,” said the captain. “These Span- 
ish coins ain’t any use ’ceptin’ as bullion. Fifteen 
to twenty dollars is what onzas most usually bring. ’ ’ 

Harry now lost no time in getting into the diving 
suit and, determined to outdo Paul, he signaled that 
all was ready and was soon being lowered towards 
the wreck. His sensations were much the same as 
those of his cousin, but as Paul had already warned 
him of the trouble in walking erect and the danger 
of moving too quickly, he found less difficulty in 
moving upon the bottom and searching about the 
wreck. He readily found the mass of coins which 
had dropped out through the opening made by Tom 
and hastily filling his bag he hunted diligently for 
more bars of gold. He saw none and was about to 
give up in despair when his eye caught sight of a 
loosened bit of wood which seemed to bulge outward 
as if being pressed from behind. Steadying him- 
self by holding onto a timber, Harry seized the loose 
board and pulled. It came away easily and from the 
aperture tumbled dozens of the squarish objects, 
which the boy knew to be bars of gold. 

The captain was now pulling on the line and, 
grabbing two of the ingots, Harry gave the signal 
and was soon aboard the yacht. 

“Hurrah! We’ve almost enough to buy our 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


m 


yacht,” cried Paul as Harry dumped the contents 
of his hag onto the skylight and laid the two ingots 
beside Paul’s. 

“And there’s lots and lots more of them,” cried 
Harry. 4 * There ’s a regular fortune down there. ’ 9 

Captain Perkins was almost as excited as the 
boys and insisted on going down next. He came up 
with one bag filled with the onzas and another full 
of ingots in a very short time, and as his face-plate 
was unfastened he exclaimed: “Lor’! No more 
diving for me. I’m a-getting too old and too fat. 
Felt as if I’d bust all the time I was down. 
Wouldn’t a-missed it for the world, though. Treas- 
ure hunting’s the game for me, lads. Never thought 
I’d actually live to claw onzas and bullion from an 
old wreck.” 

“Now, Tom,” he said, when at last the diving suit 
had been taken off and he had recovered his breath, 
“we’ll just get to work right and yank the rest o’ 
that treasure up systematic. Take down a bar and 
a canvas sling and just pull the stuff out and send 
it up as fast as ye can. Time’s a-flying, and for all 
we know bad weather may come on afore we’re 
done.” 

Tom soon descended and for over an hour toiled 
below, while sling after sling of coins, bullion and 
cannon were drawn up to the yacht. 

At last the sailor signaled to be hauled up. 


280 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“S’help me, that’s all I’m good for,” he ex- 
claimed when the helmet had been taken off. “I’m 
that done ye could knock me hover with a feather. ’ ’ 

“All right, lad,” cried the captain. “Take a 
spell o’ rest and to-morrow we’ll get the balance o’ 
the stuff. Is there much left?” 

“No, sir,” replied the sailor. “Couldn’t see 
narthin’ more, sir. The bloomin’ old hooker’s gone 
pretty nigh all to pieces, sir. Blow me, if I don’t 
think as ’ow she’s let most o’ her cargo drop into 
the mud where it’s no use a huntin’, if ye arsk me, 
’ceptin’ ye brings a dredge along.” 

“Let’s count up and see what we’ve got,” sug- 
gested Harry. “My, but we must be millionaires 
with all that treasure!” 

“Not quite millionaires, I guess,” laughed his 
uncle. “But certainly you have more gold scat- 
tered over the deck here than most people see in a 
lifetime.” 

“Now, aren’t you sorry you laughed at us?” said 
Harry. 

“And told us we could have your share?” taunted 
Paul. 

“That’s all right, boys,” laughed Mr. Rogers. 
“I’ll stand by my guns. I admit your treasure hunt 
has been a huge success, and I’ll never laugh at any- 
thing of the sort again, but you’re welcome to my 
share. You deserve it.” 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


281 


As they talked the boys were gathering the coins 
and ingots into piles, while the captain examined 
and counted them and Mr. Rogers jotted down the 
number in his notebook. 

When at last they had gone over the entire lot 
they found that the treasure consisted of 21 bars of 
silver, 10 ingots of gold, 208 Spanish gold onzas, 
320 Spanish silver dollars or “pieces of eight,” as 
the captain called them, six large bronze guns and 
three bronze carronades. 

“How much does all that make?” asked Harry 
when all had been tabulated. 

“I dunno exactly,” replied the captain, “but I 
can figure it out pretty close.” 

Taking a pencil and paper, he seated himself un- 
der the awning while the boys squatted among their 
piles of treasure. 

“Let’s see,” began the captain. “Silver’s worth 
about sixty cents an ounce. That’s $7.20 a pound, 
and these bars weigh about ten pound each. That 
makes $72.00 a bar, and twenty-one bars, $1,512.00. 
The gold’s worth ’bout sixteen dollars an ounce or 
$192.00 a pound. The ingots weigh somewheres 
around five pound each, so each one’s worth close 
onto $960.00, and there’s ten of ’em, so you’ve got 
’bout $9,600.00 worth o’ gold bullion. The onzas 
will fetch about $17.00 each or $3,536.00, and the 
pieces o ’ eight are worth about half a dollar each or 


282 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


say $160.00 for the lot. I reckon we’ve got about 
$200.00 worth o’ old bronze, and that all figures up 
to $15,008.00.” 

‘ ‘ Whew ! ’ ’ cried Paul. ‘ ‘ Fifteen thousand dollars 
from that old wreck. Hurrah! We can buy a 
yacht now ! ’ ’ 

i 1 How did the old pirates divide their treasure ? ’ ’ 
asked Harry. “We ought to share ours the same 
way.” 

“Dunno exactly,” replied the captain. “I’ve 
read as how they most generally gave one part, say 
a fifth or a sixth, to be divided equal among the 
crew and then shared the balance among the officers. 
Reckon that’s a pretty fair way, lads. What do 
you say?” 

“Well, Rami’ll have to be counted as an officer,” 
declared Harry. “We’ll give one part to be divided 
among the two sailors and then we ’ll divide the rest 
by five. Do you think that ’s all right ? ’ ’ 

“There are seven on board. Suppose we call it 
one-seventh for the crew,” suggested Paul. 

“That’s a good scheme,” said Mr. Rogers. 
“After you’ve everything on board we’ll divide it 
in that way. ’ ’ 

‘ 4 Might as well get the loot cleaned up and stowed 
away,” remarked the captain. “Can’t leave a heap 
o’ gold a-lying around on deck over night.” 

Tom brought some empty boxes and soon every- 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


283 


one was busy scraping the marine growths from the 
coins and ingots and stowing the treasure in the 
cases. 

As they worked the boys speculated upon the 
name and country of the wreck and the length of 
time she had lain upon the bottom of the gulf. The 
dates on the coins were easily legible in most cases 
and ranged from 1610 to 1705. 

“That proves she was not sunk until after 1705, 
at any rate,” said Mr. Rogers as the coin with the 
most recent date was examined. 

“Reckon she wasn’t one o’ Morgan’s ships,” said 
the captain. “He sacked Panama in 1671. Likely 
as not some of these guns will have writing on ’em. 
Let’s clean ’em up and see.” 

Curious to discover anything which would throw 
light upon the history of their find, the boys left the 
rest of the treasure to the sailors’ care and with 
Mr. Rogers and the captain gave their attention to 
the corroded, bronze cannon. For some time noth- 
ing was discovered and then Paul knocked a piece 
of coral from the breech of a carronade and ex- 
claimed : 

“Here are some letters, captain. They’re quite 
distinct. ’ ’ 

The letters, deeply engraved upon the gun, were 
easily seen and the captain examined them care- 
fully. 


284 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Fetch a brush and some water, Tom,” he said. 
“Can’t make nothing o’ this ’til it’s cleaned up a 
bit.” 

A thorough scrubbing did much to make the in- 
scription legible and the captain studied it for some 
time while the hoys peered over his shoulder. 

“Those old Spanish chaps were great for using 
abbreviations,” he remarked. “Reckon it saved a 
heap o’ work, cutting in letters ’stead o’ words. I 
can most generally make ’em out, though. When 
ye’ve been a-carryin’ cargoes all marked with let- 
ters and signs for fifty year or so a man gets used to 
such puzzles. Only trouble is these old folks didn’t 
care what lingo they used. Sometimes ’twas Span- 
ish, other times Italian and now and again Latin. 
Reckon this is Spanish, though. Let’s see. Here 
’tis. ‘A’o. D’o. 1640. D’n’a. Y’s’t’a. A’r’a. To’.’ 
And the coat o ’ arms o ’ Castile and Leon. ’ ’ 

“What does all that mean!” asked Paul. “Does 
it tell what the ship was!” 

“No and yes,” laughed the captain. “According 
to my ideas, it means A.D. 1640. Donna Ysleta. 
Armeria Toledo. I reckon ‘ Donna Ysleta ’s’ the 
name o’ the ship, and the gun was made at Toledo 
along in 1640. Like as not the old wreck’s the 
‘Donna Ysleta,’ but then again for all we know the 
gun may have been captured and changed hands a 
dozen times afore it went down on this craft. I’ve 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


285 


seen old Spanish guns used for signaling aboard 
British and Yankee merchantmen many a time.” 

1 ‘ Then we ’ll never know what ship this was, ’ ’ said 
Paul. 

“Probably not,” said his father, “unless you 
should find some old naval records which related the 
history of the ‘Donna Ysleta’ and other ships of 
her time.” 

“Reckon it 
don’t make much 
if any differ- 
ence,” laughed 
the captain, 

‘ ‘ s ’long as the 
treasure’s been 
found. Just as 
likely she ’s the 
‘Ysleta’ as any 
other craft.” 

“Oh, I’ve a bully idea!” exclaimed Harry. 
“We’ll call our yacht the ‘Ysleta,’ after the wreck.” 

“That’s fine,” agreed Paul. 

“And we’ll clean up the old bell and one of these 
guns and put them on her,” Harry added. 

“Reckon the old bell and some o’ these guns can 
be cleaned up fit to use,” said the captain. 

The last of the treasure had now been cleaned, 
packed and safely stored below, and while the sail- 



286 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


ors swabbed the dirt and muss from the decks the 
others stretched themselves in chairs beneath the 
awnings and discussed the events of this wonderful 
day and made plans for the future. 

“What are we going to do with all this treas- 
ure?” asked Paul. “Can we take it home with us 
as it is?” 

“I’ve been considering that,” replied Mr. Rogers. 
“I think the best plan is to deposit it in some bank 
in Colon and take drafts in return. I presume there 
are firms who attend to such matters there. ’ ’ 

“Reckon that’s a good scheme,” agreed the cap- 
tain. “I know a banker there who’ll do the trick. 
He’s just the chap, as he’s always taken gold from 
the mines and all sorts of produce and stuff, sort 
o’ banking-commission-merchant. Moreover, he’ll 
keep mum and won’t be answering questions as to 
where the stuff comes from. O’ course it don’t 
make much difference — after we get all the treasure 
there is — but there’s no use a-starting all the scum 
o’ the Isthmus searching for treasure round here. 
For all we know we may want to come treasure 
hunting again ourselves. Eh, lads?” 

“It still seems like a dream to me,” remarked 
Harry. “I can’t really believe we’ve found treas- 
ure. It’s just like a story.” 

“I’ve got a couple of onzas in my pocket, where 


RAMI GOES FISHING 


287 


I can feel them and know they’re real,” announced 
Paul. 

They all laughed at Paul’s scheme to convince 
himself of the reality of the treasure and soon after- 
wards the boys retired to their bunks to dream of 
galleons, pirates and gold until aroused by the 
cheery hail of the captain. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE CAPTAIN SPRINGS A SURPRISE 

‘ ‘ Well, lads,” he cried, as they came to break- 
fast, “how about the treasure this morning! Be- 
gun to realize ye’re rich yet!” 

The hoys laughed. “I’ve the onzas in my pocket 
yet,” said Paul. 

“Treasure’s safe and sound,” chuckled the cap- 
tain. “Took a squint at it myself. Nobody ran 
off with it in the night.” 

“I really believe you feel just as we do about it,” 
declared Harry. “You knew nobody had touched 
it and just looked to be sure it wasn’t all a dream.” 

“Dunno but ye’re right,” said the captain with a 
laugh. “Let’s hurry up and see if there’s any more 
down in the wreck.” 

It was not long before they were all on deck and 
Tom was ready to go down in the diving suit. A 
number of silver bars, a few coins and another 
cannon were sent up and then Tom came to the sur- 
face. 

“Narthin’ more down there, sir,” he announced. 
“It’s jest the poop o’ the bloomin’ ol’ hooker what’s 
288 


THE CAPTAIN SPRINGS A SURPRISE 289 


a-showin’ of above the bottom. Most o’ her bally 
hull’s sunk clean out o’ sight. Blow me, but she 
must ’a’ been a-lyin’ there a precious while, sir. 
No use a-tryin’ of to do narthin’ more without a 
dredge, sir.” 

“ Reckon ye’re right, Tom,” said the captain. 
“Been a-studying of the wreck myself. Those old- 
time hookers had poops way aloft and was low 
for’ard and ’midships. Likely as not the old craft 
bust in two and for’ard half’s gone years ago. 
Reckon the treasure we got was all in the lazarette 
above the main deck. Well, we’ve got a-plenty. No 
use a-being too greedy. Might just as well stow the 
diving outfit and head for Colon. ’ ’ 

“Perhaps we can come back some time with a 
dredge,” said Paul. 

The captain laughed heartily. “Why, lad,” he 
exclaimed, “a dredge that would fetch up what’s 
sunk in the bottom yonder would cost more’n ye’ll 
get from all the treasure. Likely as not ye wouldn’t 
find anything more, even if ye did dredge. Shouldn ’t 
be a mite surprised if the old craft bust up on the 
reef and just one end of her drifted in here.” 

“Well, I’m satisfied as it is,” declared Harry. 

“You’re certainly about the most fortunate boys 
in the world,” said Mr. Rogers. “Not many can 
boast that they’ve taken a small fortune from an 
ancient wreck in the Spanish Main.” 


290 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


Soon the creak of the windlass was heard, the 
anchors were raised and the “Cormorant,” with her 
cargo of gold, bore northward across the gnlf while 
the two boys cast longing looks towards the little 
islets far astern. 


About noon they passed 
the little town of Acia. 

“Yonder’s where an old 
Scotchman tried to found a 
settlement of Britishers,” 
said the captain. 6 4 His 
name was William Pater- 
son, same chap as founded 
the Bank of England. He 
started a colony here in 
1698 but was driven out in 1700. Place is still called 
Caledonia Bay.” 

When the sun sank behind the lofty mountains of 
the Isthmus, Playon Chico could be seen amid the 
palms and foliage a few miles distant. 

“I had no idea there were such high mountains 
in Panama,” remarked Paul. “How did they ever 
dig a canal across them?” 

“Lor’ bless your heart!” cried the captain. 
“They didn’t dig across those mountains. Down 
hereabouts they’re pretty nigh a mile high, but 
atwixt Colon and Panama they’re not over a thou- 
sand feet anywhere and the canal runs through 



THE CAPTAIN SPRINGS A SURPRISE 291 


Culebra Pass where it’s not over two hundred and 
ninety feet above the sea.” 

The boys awoke the next morning to find the 
islands of the Mulatas Archipelago close at hand, 
while ahead loomed Cape San Bias with the moun- 
tains low and indistinct beyond the gently-sloping 
hills and broad, forest-covered savannas of the 
coastal plain. Before noon they passed Palenque 
and two hours later the captain pointed out Porto 
Bello. 

“Yonder’s the Atlantic end o’ the old Gold 
Road, ’ ’ he remarked. ‘ ‘ I expect you lads would be 
glad of a chance to take a look about the old place. 
Reckon we might as well run in and spend a couple 
o’ hours ashore. We can easy make Colon at sun- 
down.” 

The boys found Porto Bello’s ruins very interest- 
ing. They wandered through the ancient fortifica- 
tions, looked seaward from the quaint, lantern-like 
sentry-boxes, and examined the arms and shields 
emblazoned above the arched gateways. 

“It looks as old as San Domingo,” remarked 
Paul. “When were these old forts built?” 

“Dunno as I can tell ye the exact date,” replied 
the captain. “Columbus landed here in 1503 and 
started a colony, but the folks was all killed off by 
Injuns and ’twasn’t till along in 1510 that the Span- 
iards got a foothold on the Isthmus. For a spell 


292 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


the Atlantic port was Cruces, then it was shifted 
to Nombre de Dios and then to Porto Bello. Colon 
wasn’t built till 1849, when the Panama railway was 
laid across the Isthmus.” 

“It was a fortunate thing that the railway and 
canal were built from Colon instead of Porto Bello,” 


remarked Mr. Rogers. 
“ Such enterprises 
would have doubtless 
resulted in the de- 
struction of these 
ruins of stirring early 
days. They should be 
preserved and cared 
for as monuments of 
great historical inter- 



est.” 


“I wonder if there isn’t any hidden treasure 
here,” said Paul. 

“Lor’, but ye lads are keen on treasure hunting,” 
laughed the captain. “But ye needn’t fret about 
that. Old Morgan didn’t leave more than a heap 
o’ smoking ruins behind him here and in Panama. 
I’ll bet ye he took away every centavo that was in 
the place.” 

“For all we know the treasure we’ve found may 
have come from here,” remarked Harry. 

“Right ye are,” cried the captain. “I’ll wager 


THE CAPTAIN SPRINGS A SURPRISE 293 


if those old onzas and pieces o 9 eight could tell their 
story ’twould be some yarn.” 

Leaving the harbor of Porto Bello the yacht sailed 
close to the shore and before sunset passed the long 
breakwater at Toro Point and entered the harbor 
of Colon. 

There were so many interesting things to be seen 
that the boys scarcely knew which way to turn. 
The pretty American suburb of Christobal, the busy 
docks, the huge steamships, the great railway ter- 
minal, the crowds of people and the entrance to 
the wonderful canal all occupied the boys 9 attention 
while the customs and quarantine formalities were 
being attended to. 

“Let’s hop ashore and see some o’ the sights,” 
suggested the captain. “ ’Tain’t much of a town 
and it’s pleasantest in the evening.” 

The boys found the streets of the city neat and 
clean but most of the buildings were very flimsy 
wooden affairs of no interest. 

‘ ‘Place has been burned down time and again,” 
said the captain. “Blessed good thing it was too, 
in the old days — only way to keep the place clean.” 

“A fire would wipe it out completely, I should 
imagine,” remarked Mr. Rogers. “These light 
wooden houses must be like tinder. ’ ’ 

“Well, they’re a-building the newer ones o’ con- 
crete now. All the best folks live over at Christobal 


294 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


though. Pretty nice spot, but even Colon’s a heap 
better than the last time I was here.” 

A very pleasant drive was taken to the little 
American settlement at Christobal, with its wide, 
smooth streets, groves of palms and attractive vil- 
las. Roosevelt Avenue, following the curve of the 
beach close to the water, and shaded with a double 
row of palms; the pala- 
tial Hotel Washington, 
and the cold - storage 
plant of the Canal Com- 
mission were all visited 
and the boys stopped to 
admire the beautiful 
statue of Columbus on 
the lawn before the residence of De Lesseps. 

“It’s all mighty nice and clean and pretty now,” 
remarked the captain. “But ye’d ought to have 
seen it twenty-five years back. All this new part 
yonder waste swamp; streets full of dirt; ruins of 
burned houses standing everywhere and over in the 
old canal big dredges, steamboats and machinery 
lying rusty and abandoned. Folks that come here 
now with everything going smooth and the ditch 
dug don’t realize what the Yankees had afore ’em 
when they started in.” 

“It was a marvelous achievement of course, and 
I don’t suppose the average American does realize 



THE CAPTAIN SPRINGS A SURPRISE 295 


what such work in the tropics means,” said Mr. 
Rogers. 

“I don’t know much about digging canals,” re- 
plied the captain, “and I suppose it’s just a matter 
o’ mechanics and money, but I do know that they’ve 
fair made over the whole Isthmus. Turned one o’ 
the biggest fever holes on earth into a clean, pretty- 
looking, healthy spot, and that I reckon ’s more of 
a job than a-digging the big ditch. Leastwise, doing 
that ’s the most reemarkable part o ’ the canal work, 
to my mind.” 

1 1 1 quite agree with you, ’ ’ said Mr. Rogers. 6 1 And 
yet not one person in a thousand who travels 
through the canal will give a thought to it. ’ ’ 

The next morning the captain accompanied the 
boys and Mr. Rogers on a visit to his banker friend 
and arrangements were soon made to dispose of the 
bullion and coins. 

“It will be an easy matter to weigh and appraise 
the gold and silver,” the banker said. “It’s just as 
good as money and I ’ll see that you have the drafts 
before we close this afternoon.” 

“So you’re really successful treasure-hunters,” 
he said to the boys. “I’ve never met one before. 
It’s really marvelous that you should have found 
the old wreck and the riches. I’ve heard of such 
things but I certainly never expected to have treas- 
ure-trove stored in my own safes.” 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“How about getting the bullion through the cus- 
toms house?” asked Mr. Rogers. “Won’t there be 
any difficulty about that?” 

“I’ll attend to that,” the banker assured them. 
“I’ll send two of my best men to the dock with a 
truck and you can leave everything in their hands.” 

Before noon the last of the boxes of treasure had 
been carted away and in the afternoon the party 
again called on the banker. 

1 ‘ The value of the coins and ingots is a trifle less 
than your estimate, Captain Perkins,” said the 
banker referring to a slip on the table in his office. 
“It totals $14,364. I understand you wish drafts 
of various sums. If you ’ll let me know the amounts 
of each I’ll have them issued at once.” 

“We were going to divide one seventh between 
the two sailors,” said Paul. “That’s $2,052, or 
$1,026 each. Then the balance of $12,312 is to be 
equally divided between the other five, making 
$2,462.40 each.” 

“Then I’m to make out two drafts for $1,026 and 
five for $2,462.40 each — is that correct?” asked the 
banker. 

“Hold on a bit,” cried Mr. Rogers, laughing. 
“The boys have forgotten they’re entitled to my 
share. Make out two drafts for $3,693.60 each and 
one for $2,462.40 instead of the five.” 

“Rogers and I’d like to speak to ye a minute in 


THE CAPTAIN SPRINGS A SURPRISE 297 


private,” said the captain with a wink. “Set right 
where ye be, lads,” he added. 

“I’d like to know what they’re planning,” 
remarked Harry, when the others had withdrawn. 
“But I suppose we’ll soon know. The cruise is over 
and they can’t keep us waiting much longer.” 

Presently the three men returned and the banker 
handed each of the boys a long envelope. 

The captain’s eyes twinkled merrily and he shook 
with suppressed laughter as he watched the boys 
draw out the crisp drafts. 

“Why, this isn’t right,” exclaimed Paul. “It’s 
for $4,924.80.” 

“So is mine,” announced Harry. 

“And mine’s made payable in San Francisco,” 
cried Paul. 

“And mine is too,” said Harry. 

“That’s perfectly shipshape,” roared the cap- 
tain. “Told ye I’d give ye my share if ye didn’t 
get enough for your yacht. I reckon ye ain’t got 
any more’n ye need now. And they’re made out 
for ’Frisco ’cause that’s where we’re bound. Been 
a-wanting to go to that exposition all along. Goin’ 
to leave the ‘ Cormorant’ down here, take you lads 
across the Isthmus through the canal and up to the 
Fair and s ’prise Mrs. Rogers. Like as not ye’ll 
find a yacht that’ll suit ye there. Had it planned 
for weeks; ain’t we, Rogers?” 


298 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


“Well, that is a surprise,” exclaimed Paul. 

‘ 4 1 knew you two were up to something , ’ 1 declared 
Harry. “But I never dreamed it was anything so 
fine . 9 9 

“Won’t mother be surprised to see us!” cried 
Paul. 

“Not a bit more surprised than I was when Cap- 
tain Perkins first suggested the trip,” laughed Mr. 
Rogers. “But it’s such an exceptional opportunity 
I couldn’t let it pass.” 

When Rami received his share of the treasure 
money he was quite overcome and could scarcely 
believe that he was actually the possessor of so 
much ready cash. 

“What are you going to do with it!” asked Paul. 

“If Sahib Rogers please to permit, me mek call 
to Bombay,” replied the Hindu. “Me mooch want 
to see he. Mos’ surely Rami come again to cookey 
for tha sahibs.” 

“That’s a very sensible plan, Rami,” said Mr. 
Rogers. “You can sail from here and remain away 
until we return to New York.” 

“Yes, sar, thank you, sar,” smiled the cook. 

“Don’t you fail to come back,” Paul admonished 
him. 

“No, Rami; you must come back,” added Harry. 
“We’re going to have a new yacht of our own and 
we couldn’t get along without you.” 


THE CAPTAIN SPRINGS A SURPRISE 299 


“In surely me come for cookey for yacht,” Rami 
assured them. 

The two sailors were fully as pleased as was Rami 
at their good fortune. 

Henry, the Barbados sailor, declared he was go- 
ing hack and buy an estate on the island, but later 
changed his mind and announced that he would pur- 
chase a small schooner and trade between the vari- 
ous ports. 

“Beggin’ your pardon, sir,” said Tom, approach- 
ing the captain. “If ye don’t mind I’ll be 
a-goin’ ’long o’ ye to the bloomin’ Fair. I’ve 
a sister in ’Frisco as I ’aven’t seen for ten year 
and blow me, if I hadn’t been a-thinkin’ o’ ship- 
pin’ on a Pacific boat, soon as ye’d let me orf, 
sir. ’ ’ 

* ‘ Glad to have ye go, Tom, ’ ’ declared the captain. 
“Ye’ll have a fine time and I’ll be glad to have ye 
come along back and ship on the ‘ Cormorant ’ again. 
If the lads buy a yacht in ’Frisco ye can sailor with 
’em along back. I ’m a-going to lay the ‘ Cormorant ’ 
up here, so get busy, lad, and have everything snug 
and shipshape.” 

The next few days were busy ones for all on 
board the yacht, for there was much to be done in 
preparation for leaving her until the captain’s re- 
turn. 

Sails were unbent and stowed, top-hamper was 


300 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


sent down, deck-houses and brass work were covered 
with canvas and tarpaulin, the motor was over- 
hauled and oiled, and a thousand and one other 
details were attended to. At last all was ready and 
the boys, who had been living ashore for several 
days, saw the dismantled yacht towed to her berth 
and turned over to a caretaker in the local shipyard. 
The work was finished just in time and the next 
morning the party boarded the steamship for San 
Francisco and an hour later were entering the great 
canal. 

Much as the boys had read of the canal it proved 
a revelation to them at every turn. The enormous 
locks filled them with wonder; the powerful little 
electric locomotives which pulled the great liner 
through the locks fascinated them and they were 
deeply interested in the many safeguards which had 
been provided to prevent accidents to ships or 
canal. 

“It doesn’t seem possible that man could have 
accomplished such a work, ’ ’ declared Harry as they 
entered the vast Culebra Cut. “It’s like digging a 
great river through a mountain chain. ’ ’ 

“Why, they’re still dredging over there,” ex- 
claimed Paul. 

“Landslide,” said an officer who stood near. 
“Have ’em every little while here. Last trip we 


THE CAPTAIN SPRINGS A SURPRISE 301 


were held up two days, waiting for the dredges to 
clear the channel.” 

1 ‘Yes, and I reckon they’ll have ’em long as 
there’s any ditch here,” exclaimed the captain. 
4 ‘I’ve seen mountains what have been a-sliding that 
way for over a hundred years and are still a-slipping 
off every time there’s a heavy rain. ’Tain’t like 
the mountains up north. These are so rotten I 
reckon they can keep a-sliding as long as there’s a 
mite o’ hill left to slide.” 

Through the broad Gatun Lake the ship passed 
and the captain pointed to landmarks he remem- 
bered having seen on former trips across by rail- 
way and which were now deep beneath the water, 
although at one time high above the bottom of the 
valley and covered with dense forests. It was a 
strange sensation to be sailing in a great ocean 
steamship in the narrow waterway between the 
wooded mountains and the boys enjoyed every mo- 
ment of the trip. 

At last the ship was beyond the divide and entered 
the locks on the Pacific slope and, looking ahead, 
the boys caught a glimpse of blue water sparkling 
and shimmering in the sunshine. 

For a space they gazed in silence, thrilled, as was 
Balboa, by their first view of the broad western 
ocean. A moment later they saw the twin cathedral 


302 


IN MORGAN’S WAKE 


towers, their pearl-shell encrusted roofs gleaming 
like silver from among the palms. 

“There’s Panama!” cried Paul. 

“Hurrah for the Pacific!” shouted Harry. 


THE END 








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